


the gift of imperfection

by ailurea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien weddings, Bathing, Fake Marriage, Frottage, M/M, Massages, Mentions of past Keith/Regris, Mutual Pining, Pining, Real Marriage, Sparring, Temporary telepathy, background allurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 09:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17958182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ailurea/pseuds/ailurea
Summary: Shiro and Keith end up on a mission to attend an annual celebration on an alien planet in order to build cultural ties.The only problem is, no one mentioned that they’re not meant to just be attending—they’re meant to be participating.And the celebration? Is a giant wedding.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stardropdream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/gifts).



> A Shiro Birthday Exchange gift for [Robin](https://twitter.com/stardropdream) who asked for so many wonderful things that I had to try to do all at once!  
> I hope you like it!! ♥♥♥
> 
> Happy birthday to our favorite boy! :)

Shiro wakes to the soft chime of an incoming transmission.

He was dreaming about something. It’s already slipping away from him, replaced moment-by-moment with wakefulness, and he lets it go—the mad rush of his heartbeat and the sweat cooling on his skin is memory enough.

He pushes himself into action instead. The transmission chime has been silenced, which means Keith must have already accepted it. Shiro pulls on his jacket and a pair of black sweatpants that should hold up over the fuzzy quality of any video transmissions and makes his way out of his room.

Keith’s in the cockpit, taking the transmission in the pilot’s chair. He must have been awake for a while—he’s already in full armor. He glances up and smiles a little as Shiro goes to stand behind him, but his attention turns quickly back to the video feed where there’s a Visarian chattering excitedly.

They must have entered Visari airspace.

“Shiro the Hero!” the Visarian says when they see Shiro.

Everything inside Shiro cringes at the appellation, but he knows not to let it show. “Felos, right?” he says, recalling the narrow blue face from the slim mission brief he and Keith had received. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“You as well!” Felos says. Their accent and speech patterns seem similar to the Alteans. Shiro wonders if their languages are actually similar, or if the translator just prefers vaguely British accents.

“As I was just telling your partner, we are very excited to have Paladins of Voltron participating in our sacred celebration!” The Visari leader does, in fact, look as though they’re about to burst in glee. Their smile is splitting their face, and they’re practically vibrating.

The Visarians are recent recruits into the Galactic Coalition and heavy influencers in their part of the universe. It’s important to build a good relationship with them early, which is why Shiro and Keith are here, joining their annual planet-wide celebration of love.

“We’re excited to be here,” Keith says, and Shiro can’t stop himself from smiling.

Once upon a time, a sentence like that would never have left Keith’s mouth. Nothing compares to the little burst of pride Shiro feels whenever he sees how much Keith’s grown.

“We’ve made sure everything is ready for your arrival,” Felos says. “Our bonding rites are highly respected across the galaxy. I’m certain that you will enjoy taking part in them.”

Shiro frowns. The mission brief was vague, but he’d assumed the intention was for them to be observers of the rites, not participants. He glances at Keith and sees the same confusion reflected on his face.

“I think there might be some mistake,” Keith says. “We aren’t participating in the rites.”

Felos’s expression doesn’t waver. “Oh, I know there was concern because you’re outsiders, but there are many who come from all corners of the galaxy to participate, so please, don’t worry! If anything, we should thank you. It’s such an honor for us to have you take part.”

“No, I—” Keith starts, but he quiets when Shiro places a hand on his shoulder.

This celebration is important for the Visari, and it’s clear that Shiro and Keith’s participation is a point of pride for them. He’s not sure how they ended up in this position, but he is sure that withdrawing would leave a less-than-favorable impression—even though it means his plans of a relaxing mission with Keith have now essentially vanished.

And taking part in what is essentially a wedding is… a lot, for sure, but it's not as though it would result in a real marriage, in that the ceremony wouldn't be recognized back on Earth. With anyone else, Shiro might have second thoughts, but with Keith—this is something they can do, he thinks, without it being strange during or after.

Keith tilts his head, studying Shiro’s face. Shiro gazes back, trying to gauge Keith’s thoughts. He looks more contemplative than anything else, maybe also a little resigned.

Shiro can relate. They both know that the mission takes priority.

Keith’s shoulders hitch up and down in a little sigh before he turns back to Felos. “We’re honored to be a part of it.”

“Wonderful!” Felos says. “We’re looking forward to your arrival.”

Keith clarifies the details of their landing, then they bid their goodbyes and sign off.

“Well,” Keith says, not looking at Shiro. “Guess we’re doing that.”

Shiro’s hand is still on Keith’s shoulder, and he can feel the tense set of it, even through the armor. He squeezes gently. “We'll be fine. It’s important we leave a positive impression.”

“Yeah,” Keith says, quietly. He still seems uncertain.

Maybe he’s worried about the ramifications? What it might mean for him in the future?

“About the ceremony,” Shiro says. “It’s not real. It doesn’t really mean anything, outside of here. You don’t have to worry about that.”

There’s a moment where everything is still. Then Keith stands and Shiro’s hand slides off his shoulder. “Right,” he says. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah.” Shiro says. Keith’s tone stirs something uncomfortable in him. He sounds—reluctant. Which isn’t usual for Keith, when it comes to a mission, which must mean he really doesn’t want to do this. “Keith, we don’t have to—“

“Shiro,” Keith cuts in. “It’s fine.” He smiles a little, and some of his tension lightens. “We just have to pretend to like each other. What’s so hard about that?”

Shiro laughs. “True.” It’d be harder to act like they disliked each other. “But you seem… I don’t know. I don’t want you to be stressed about this. We were expecting more of a vacation than a mission.”

Lance and Allura were the ones who encouraged the Visarians to join the Coalition, and they encouraged Shiro and Keith to take this follow-up mission.

_ You two have been working so hard, _ Allura said.  _ This could be just the break you need. _

“I mean, compared to some of the other missions we’ve been on, this is still pretty much a vacation,” Keith says, crossing his arms and leaning back against the pilot’s seat. “There’s no political upheaval. That’s a good start.”

Shiro sighs. “I was just hoping we could have a nice, simple mission together for once.”

This trip is his goodbye, in a way. His way of spending some quality time with Keith before he joins everyone else on their imminent slow slide out of Shiro’s life. A little vacation from the flow of reality.

Because the real world will be waiting for them when they get back. Krolia and Kolivan are en route to Earth to meet up with Keith, and Shiro’s sure that when they leave, Keith will be heading out with them.

Shiro’s not surprised by it. It’s been inevitable. Shiro knew when he met him that Keith would one day reach heights that no one else could.

No one—not even Shiro.

\----

Felos greets them personally at the landing pad. They’re taller in person; thin and blue, with pointed fingers and pointed ears and semi-translucent skin. They’re wearing sleeveless maroon robes long enough to touch the ground.

Felos barely takes note of the small Earth-Altean starship Shiro and Keith made the journey in before having someone take their bags away and gesturing for Shiro and Keith to follow them out.

Shiro understands why their starship isn’t very interesting. Even if he didn’t read it from the mission brief, Shiro can tell that Visari is far more technologically advanced just from their spaceport. It’s a dazzling display of concrete, glass, and dark green vines. The ships docked around them are sleek and varied. He can tell which ones Keith likes; as Keith’s gaze lands on them, his hands twitch like he’s itching to fly them.

There isn’t much time for them to admire. Felos has long legs and a long, graceful stride to match, and they’re quickly out of the spaceport and into the city.

“Welcome to the capital,” Felos says, sweeping their arms in front of them with a flourish.

Everything around them is the same mix of concrete, glass, and vines that give them an urban but also distinctly natural feeling. A number of the buildings are tall and spiraling, reminding Shiro of metropolitan cities back on Earth, but the plants that are part of the structures make them completely different. It reminds him of Olkarion, in a way.

On the streets, there are more than just Visarians walking around, which solidifies Felos’s claim that this celebration is a galaxy-wide affair. 

Felos leads the way, explaining some of the city’s history as they walk, but Shiro is distracted by the brightness in Keith’s eyes as he takes in their surroundings. It’s nothing like the environment at the Garrison, in the middle of the desert where Keith grew up, and it’s even more removed from the metallic constructs they live in day in and day out while they’re traveling in space.

Keith glances at Shiro and frowns. His eyes flit towards Felos for a second before he says quietly, “What are you smiling about?”

Is he smiling? “It’s nice here, isn’t it?”

Keith studies him. “Yeah,” he says finally. “It is. Now pay attention,” he says, but Shiro can see the beginnings of his smile.

“Nowadays the celebration occurs the same three days all across the planet,” Felos is saying when Shiro tunes back in, “but this is where it began, so of course we had to invite you here to experience it in all its splendor.”

“Of course,” Shiro repeats. Then it sinks in—right. Experience it. The bonding ceremony. Keith isn’t walking very far from him—they’re never usually too far apart—and it’s easy for Shiro to reach down and take his hand. “We’re looking forward to it.”

Keith nods.

“Hm.” Felos looks between the two of them with a little squint.

Keith steps in closer, letting go of their joined hands so he can wrap his hand around Shiro’s arm instead.

The intensity of Felos’s gaze dims, and they smile. “The bond between the two of you is quite strong. I can feel it.”

The sentence is both relieving and alarming.

“I thought you were touch telepaths,” Keith says, which is in line with what Shiro remembers from the mission brief.

“Oh, we are,” Felos says. “But I wasn’t reading your thoughts. We can get a sense of the bonds that have formed between beings, the strength and depth of them. It’s why we place such a high value on celebrating them. I’m not as sensitive to it as some others, but even I can sense yours. That’s how I know it runs deep.”

Keith’s hand twitches on his arm, and Shiro puts his hand over it to hide it.

“We’ve been through a lot together,” Shiro says, which isn’t a lie.

“Of course,” Felos says. “And of course we will respect your privacy, though I have to say that I’m looking forward to the day we can announce your bonding. The romance between the Black Paladins of Voltron would be a story for the ages.”

That day will be never—Keith seems unsettled enough by the thought of just going through with this that Shiro doubts he’d ever want anyone else to find out—but Shiro appreciates Felos’s enthusiasm.

“This is the resort and spa that you’ll be staying in for the duration of the rites,” Felos says as they stop in front of a particularly grandiose-looking building. “Were you already provided details?”

“Not exactly,” Shiro says. Maybe they should have asked about this first. He hopes it isn’t anything too intense.

“There are three days of rituals,” Felos says. “The first day is dedicated to the joining of the body, the second day for the mind, and the third for the soul.”

That sounds incredibly intense.

“The body,” Shiro repeats, haltingly, as Keith’s grip on his arm tightens.

“Yes, today is dedicated to caring for each other’s bodies with intention. The first step is cleansing; the second, relaxing; the third, harmony. Of course, the last step is private.” Felos smiles a small, knowing smile, and Shiro suspects that one is definitely sex-related. “We have attendants who will help guide you through the process.”

Shiro thought that at most they would have to act as a loving couple for a few days and fumble through some kind of wedding ceremony, but this kind of intense formalization of a relationship that isn’t real is so much more than they signed up for.

And it’s not that he minds going through it with Keith—in fact, if he had to choose someone to do this with, it’d be Keith—but Keith was already uncomfortable, even before they knew all it entailed, and Shiro’s not going to put him through this.

He’s ready to call it off, admit to Felos that they aren’t ready for this, when Keith’s grip on his arm turns bruising.

“Thank you, we’ll be sure to find you after the ceremony,” he says to Felos, who was apparently still talking.

“Thank you,” Shiro says when Keith prompts him with another death grip.

Felos smiles and waves them off as Keith drags Shiro into the building.

“Get it together,” Keith mumbles.

“Keith,” Shiro whispers, “didn’t you hear them? They wants us to—to harmonize our bodies.”

“That’s the worst euphemism I’ve ever heard,” Keith says. “But they said it’s in private, right? So when that part comes, we don’t have to do anything. Just gotta get through cleansing and relaxing. How bad could it be?”

Shiro regards Keith with the deepest respect. “I can’t believe that after all we’ve been through you still think you can say that sentence without regretting it.”

And he’s sure Keith regrets it. The cleansing, apparently, involves cleansing each other.

After checking in with the attendant, they’re led to an outdoor hot spring where a number of Visarian or otherwise alien groups are hovering together amongst the rocks. Most are in pairs, but a fair number are in groups of three, some more. Some of them are sitting, some of them are standing, but one thing is the same—they’re all bathing each other with water from the springs.

The attendant leaves them staring at each other in an adjacent locker room with nothing but a small basket of supplies.

“We can still back out,” Shiro says quietly once they’re alone.

“It’s important to them that we’re a part of this, right? I’m fine.” Keith studies him. “But I know you’ve—it’s okay if you’re uncomfortable. Maybe we can get them to let us stay in private—“

“I’m okay,” Shiro says. He has problems, for sure, with being exposed. With being watched. But everyone out there is only concerned with their own lovers, and he’s okay with Keith being the only one giving him that kind of attention.

Keith studies him again, then nods before he looks down and starts removing his arm guards.

“Let me help,” Shiro murmurs, touching the armor.

Keith nods again, and Shiro helps him detach the arm guards, then the pieces at his shoulders, then his breastplate. Shiro bends down to take off the pieces at his thighs while Keith removes his belt, and sits back to give Keith space to pull off his boots.

Keith hesitates when he’s left in his undersuit. “Let me help you with yours,” he says, and Shiro can understand his nervousness at being the only one completely naked.

He lets Keith take him through the same process. Keith’s touch is gentle. There’s a kind of quiet grace in the way that he slides the guards from Shiro’s arms; something in the way that his hands slide over Shiro’s shoulders to unbuckle the breastplate makes his heart warm and tighten.

It’s something Shiro didn’t think he could have again. It’s not only that he’s never really let anyone take care of him. It’s that, for a long time, he’s never really had anyone who wanted to.

“You okay?” Keith says, touching his shoulder, and it’s only then that Shiro notices that he’d stopped helping. Most of his armor is off now; just the boots are left.

He clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, spaced out.”

Keith is quiet for a moment, his eyes boring into Shiro’s. “I think we should call this off.”

“It wasn’t a bad spacing out,” Shiro says, bending to take off his boots.

“Tell me the second you start having second thoughts,” Keith says. “Promise me. Otherwise I’ll keep worrying.”

Shiro tucks the boots in the locker and turns back to face Keith. “As long as you promise the same.”

Keith nods once. “I'll hold you to it.”

They face each other for a moment, clad in only their undersuits. Shiro takes a deep breath and the first step. He turns so his back is facing Keith. “Help me with this?”

There’s a brief pause, then he feels Keith stepping close and the zipper of his undersuit easing down. Keith’s hands are hot when they land against Shiro’s shoulder blades and push the suit off his shoulders. Shiro tugs his arms out, then bends down to pull the suit the rest of the way off.

He tries hard to direct his focus away from the fact that he’s now naked in public to focusing on Keith instead. Keith’s seen him at his worst, at his most emotionally unstable. Baring his body doesn’t even get close to that same level of vulnerability. The marks on his skin can’t compare to the marks left on his mind, and Keith has already seen those scars.

Now, Keith’s gaze flits briefly over Shiro’s body, but he doesn’t linger before turning around and brushing his hair to the side.

“Your hair’s getting long,” Shiro says as he tugs the zipper down.

Keith hums. “Been distracted. Haven’t bothered cutting it.”

Shiro hums, distracted. It’s different, being on the other side of this. When his hands are pushing Keith’s suit over the curve of his shoulders and baring his skin inch-by-inch. It feels—

He doesn’t know how it feels.

Keith pulls his suit off the rest of the way, then folds it and puts it in the locker with Shiro’s. He clicks the door shut. “Ready?”

As Shiro expected, the others are too busy being caught up in each other to bother giving them a second glance as they enter the springs. They pick a more secluded spot in a corner near a small waterfall, and Keith sets the basket from the attendant down beside a rock a short distance from the water.

“I’ll wash you first?” Keith says.

Everything about Keith looks and sounds casual, but there’s something else there. Shiro can’t place what it is, exactly, but something in the set of his jaw and his shoulders is screaming nervous tension. So he says, “How do you want me?”

Keith’s cheeks flush pink.

Shiro winces. Way to make an awkward situation more awkward. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s—yeah. It’s fine. You can sit down,” Keith says, turning away towards the basket.

Shiro sits on the rock, facing the water. The steam from the springs fills the air, keeping him from getting too cold as he watches Keith bend down to fill a small bucket with water. He resolves to be more careful the next few days. He already knows Keith’s uncomfortable with this; he should strive to make him less so, not more so.

“Close your eyes and tilt your head forward,” Keith says as he stands.

Shiro bends forward, angling his head down, and finds a moment of solace in the darkness. Water tips over the back of his head and his scalp, rinsing his hair. It’s hot against his head, cooling to warm as it pours down in rivulets down his neck and body.

There’s a pop of a cap, then Keith’s fingers are in his hair, massaging and lightly scratching. The faint scent of something like sandalwood starts to fill the air.

Shiro lets out a quiet sigh. He washes his own hair, of course, but the feeling of Keith’s fingers—the feeling of Keith doing this for him at all—is completely different.

“This okay?”

“S’nice,” Shiro says. The words are thick on his tongue.

Keith’s fingers stutter over his scalp, just for a moment, before resuming their gentle massage. Shiro focuses on the sensation, lets himself sink into it. He comes back up when Keith speaks again. “I’m gonna rinse.”

Hot water splashes over Shiro's head. He shakes it off as he sits straight again.

Keith's nose is wrinkled. “Dog.”

Shiro laughs. “You're getting wet next, anyways.”

Keith rolls his eyes and dumps water over Shiro’s head, making Shiro sputter as it spills across his face and up his nose.

He swipes it out of his eyes. “Rude.”

“You're rude,” Keith says, but he's careful as he rinses the rest of Shiro’s body, gently tipping water over his back and then his chest. He places a warm hand on Shiro’s shoulder and walks around him to stand at his back.

Keith's hands leave, but Shiro can still feel his heat. There's another click of a bottle, a splash of water, and then Keith's palms press lightly against his shoulder blades. Shiro lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“Okay?” Keith says.

“Good,” Shiro says. “Really.”

Keith’s hands glide across his back, slick with oil that he slowly works into a lather at the top of Shiro's shoulders. He rubs it up the back of his neck, then across his upper back. Every brush of his hands warms Shiro inside, but somehow it also makes him shiver. His cock, for some reason, twitches in interest, and Shiro does not need this right now. He tries thinking of Slav to make it relax.

At Shiro’s back, Keith seems oblivious. He keeps going—Shiro’s lower back, his sides, his arms. Keith raises his arms to get to his armpits and rubs carefully, which Shiro appreciates, but he doesn’t tickle easily. There’s a pause, then Keith’s hand is in his armpit again in a way that is definitely meant to tickle. Shiro hides a small smile and forces himself not to react.

“You’re the alien,” Keith mutters as he moves on to the other arm.

Shiro hums questioningly, and Keith tries to tickle his other armpit.

“Alien,” he repeats when once again Shiro doesn’t move.

“Years of training,” Shiro says.

“Uh-huh.” Keith rinses him off with another bucket full of water— Shiro shudders at the sudden warmth—then comes around to bend down in front of him.

There’s a cute furrow in Keith’s eyebrows and his lips are pursed slightly in concentration as he works the soap across his Shiro’s front. His head is tilted down. It’s clear that he’s very deliberately avoiding looking at Shiro’s face, and Shiro doesn’t say anything about it. They’ve seen each other naked, sure—and Keith is the only one who’s seen Shiro naked in a long time, given he tends to avoid communal shower situations with anyone else. But this is something above that, and he doesn’t blame Keith for not wanting to make it personal.

Keith dodges his nipples as he scrubs around his pectorals, then down to his stomach, giving some extra attention to the grooves of his abs. Then he pauses for a moment too long, and Shiro feels again how hard his dick is. Damn.

“Keith,” Shiro says. “Look at me. You okay?”

Keith glances up. His face is slightly flushed, and he bites his lip and glances down to Shiro’s mostly-hard cock before snapping his gaze back up to Shiro’s face and flushing harder.

Shiro covers his traitorous dick with his hands. Why is it hard? There’s nothing to be hard about here. “Sorry, I just… have circulation.” Did that sentence make sense? “Don’t look at it.”

“Right. Yeah.” Shiro was hoping to be reassuring, but Keith frowns and seems to tense more as he washes Shiro’s legs, and he rushes through rinsing him down. Shiro’s butt remains firmly plastered to the rock, and Keith doesn’t make any move to reach it, which is probably for the best.

Shiro stands as soon as he’s rinsed off, and guides Keith to take his place on the rock. “Your turn,” he says, keeping his tone light. He hopes that switching will help Keith relax, but Keith is stiff as a board when Shiro has him lean back to rinse out his hair. He relaxes marginally when Shiro’s got soapy fingers in it, lightly massaging his scalp.

“How long do you think you’ll grow it?” Shiro runs his fingers through the strands. It’s already a little past Keith’s shoulders at this point.

“Huh?” Keith says. “Oh, uh—not sure. Maybe not too much longer. Don’t want it to get in the way.”

“You could always tie it off,” Shiro says. “But I’m probably not the best person to be giving advice about this.”

Keith snorts. “You’re definitely not. God, do you remember when you had the full buzz cut?”

“We don’t talk about that.” Shiro intentionally pours part of the water on Keith’s face, both as a response to the reminder of his bad hair days and as revenge from earlier, and laughs as Keith sputters and shakes his head.

“Told you you’re the rude one,” Keith says, but he seems more relaxed as Shiro walks around to his front. Keith’s wet hair spills over his shoulders and across his face, and Shiro reaches down to brush it back over his ear.

With his hair out of the way, the scar on Keith’s cheek stands out in sharp relief. Shiro hesitates, hand hovering beside the mark. He blinks, and the skin of his hand gleams a twisted silver; blinks again and it becomes a radiant, glowing purple.

And Keith is screaming.

Shiro flinches back, hard.

“Shiro!” Keith is over him, filling his view. The ground is cold and rough under him, and Shiro focuses on that to anchor him back to reality. One hand is flesh and the other is silver-white and Altean, not Galra. Neither of them are going to hurt anyone with a touch. Neither of them are going to hurt Keith.

He’s not going to hurt Keith.

“Bad memory,” Shiro gasps out.

Keith’s hand creeps toward his scar before he lowers his arm.

Shiro looks away and heaves in a breath. He’s used to this, but he’s also used to dealing with it alone. “I’m fine. Let’s—“

“You know,” Keith says, crouching down beside him and putting a hand on his back. “I’m getting really tired of you saying you’re fine when you’re not. Just breathe for a minute.”

Shiro does, and Keith breathes with him, rubbing his back soothingly all the while.

“I don’t want you to worry,” Shiro says when he starts to feel better.

“You can’t stop me,” Keith says. “I want to be here for you, Shiro. So let me.”

“It’s not your responsibility.” The last thing Shiro wants is to be a burden on Keith. Keith’s potential could never be contained, and Shiro’s only goal has ever been to raise him higher, not drag him down.

“You’re my best friend,” Keith says, “not my responsibility. And I’m going to be here for you. Whenever you need me, and even when you don’t think you do.”

That’s not a burden Shiro wants him to bear, but he knows that Keith will argue with him if he says it, so he keeps it inside.

“Come on,” Keith says, holding out his hands. “Throw some water on me and let’s call it a day.”

Shiro lets Keith pull him back to his feet, and Keith stays standing as Shiro gives him a quick rinse.

Once Keith’s adequately dripping, they head back to the locker room where the attendant gives them robes and a new basket with various bottles of what looks like oils. They’re led deeper into the building, stopping in front of wide double doors of frosted glass. The attendant hands each of them a smaller bottle with a curved lip and an amber-colored liquid inside.

“For relaxation,” they say, and right—the next step is relaxing.

Shiro’s more than a little hesitant to drink a strange alien liquid, and a glance at Keith shows the same uneasiness on his face, but no one around them seems to be giving it a second thought.

“Bottoms up,” Keith says, clinking their bottles together.

Shiro can’t put a name to the flavor. It’s sweet, but light and refreshing, and it tickles warmly on the way down, but otherwise he doesn’t feel any different. Keith shrugs at him as they hand the empty bottles back to the attendant and they’re swept through the door.

This time they’re indoors. The room is large and dark, with smooth black rocks on the ground that burn hot beneath Shiro’s feet. All over the room the otheres are sitting or laying down on the ground, some on top of each other or otherwise compromisingly close, and Shiro is about to cover Keith’s eyes and turn them around because wasn’t the sex part supposed to be private?

But then he remembers—relaxing.

He looks again. They’re giving each other massages. Just as they cleansed each other, they’re now helping each other relax.

Keith’s hand closes over his, and Keith leans close to murmur, “We don’t have to do this.”

But Shiro—he wants to. He needs to. He can’t live the rest of his life being afraid to touch Keith. He knows that his hands are capable of more than hurt; he just needs a chance to prove it to himself.

“Let me try,” Shiro says, quietly. “I won’t push,” he adds before Keith can say anything.

Keith nods once.

They set the basket down a respectable distance from any of the others and shed their robes. By silent agreement, they both lower themselves to the ground, and Keith plants himself face down against the rocks.

He hums and shifts, changing the angle of his arms and getting comfortable. He turns his face, his scarred cheek resting against the stones. “This actually feels pretty good.”

“Yeah?” Shiro digs through the basket and chooses a bottle of pale yellow liquid that looks enough like generic massage oil—smells like it too. He pours some over his hands and leans over to squeeze at the junction of Keith’s shoulders and neck. So far so good. He’s not even shaking. “Let me know if something doesn’t feel good.”

“Mmkay.” Keith’s eyes are already closed, not even watching to see what Shiro will do.

Shiro takes a deep breath in and out and begins.

He doesn’t have much experience giving massages, but he’s been on the receiving end of a few and he has a vague idea of where he should be putting his hands. His heart pounds at the thought of touching Keith’s neck, so he focuses on his shoulders to start. Keith’s breathing is deep and even under him, lulling him to peace as he applies gentle pressure. Keith’s muscles are tense under his hands, but eventually they start to release, and Keith rolls his shoulders down with a soft sigh.

Shiro adds more oil and slides his hands down to Keith’s back. The angle is a bit awkward, but he manages to press into the overworked muscles at Keith’s shoulder blades, and Keith lets out a quiet sound of appreciation that warms Shiro from the inside.

“You can—you know,” Keith mumbles against the rocks. “If the angle is easier.”

Shiro blinks and pauses, and Keith wiggles his hips.

Oh.

Shiro eases a leg over Keith so that he's straddling his hips, one hundred percent not acknowledging exactly which parts of his body are in contact, and the angle is easier—he doesn't have to reach and bend quite so awkwardly to get a good angle as he moves his way down Keith's back, working his muscles until he releases soft, stifled moans and melts into the rocks beneath.

Occasionally Keith will shift, ticklish, or just not have any reaction at all, and Shiro will move on.

Before he even notices, he’s out of back to massage, and Shiro lets out a quiet sigh of relief.

Keith murmurs in a groggy voice, “Your turn.”

Shiro climbs off him so that they can switch, and for the brief moment that they’re both sitting up, Keith squeezes his shoulder and gives him a soft smile.

Shiro smiles back. “You can sit on me,” he says as he takes the same face-down position.

Keith makes a vaguely strangled noise, but Shiro feels him settle ever so carefully by his tailbone. “Let me know if it hurts,” he says.

It hurts like hell.

The press of Keith’s hands into his tight shoulders is both the most painful and pleasurable thing he’s experienced in recent memory, and Shiro lets out a soft moan as all his muscles give out at once in confusion. “Where’d you learn to do this?” he slurs out, because the surety with which Keith’s fingers press into his tissue can only be something that comes with practice.

“Around,” Keith says. His voice is low and breathy. “God, Shiro, your muscles. I’ve never met anyone who needed a massage more in my life. How were you even moving?”

“Sheer force of will,” Shiro says, and it’s the most honest thing that’s come out of his mouth in a while.

This body—his body—has been through things he’d rather not think about, and he’s pushed it and pushed it to keep going. He always tells himself that one day he’ll get to rest, but his asshole has been permanently clenched ever since they first saw the Galran ship on Kerberos, and now, even though it’s all over, it still can’t relax. There’s too much shit that he still has to keep in.

Keith presses hard and everything in Shiro’s mind is replaced by the pain and pleasure shooting all throughout his body, punching a startled moan out of him. “Ah, fuck, Keith.” His voice sounds garbled even to his own ears but he’s too filled with pleasure for embarrassment to have any space to exist. “How does that feel so good?”

“Shiro, oh my god,” Keith says, hands halting over his back.

“You’re a god.” Shiro’s not sure what he’s saying, but he thinks it makes sense. It’s hard to think when he’s melting, melting into the floor as Keith attacks his sore and tired muscles with typical Keith-like intensity.

“Can’t believe you get like this,” Keith says. “If I’d known—”

Shiro waits for the rest of the sentence, but it doesn’t come. “If you’d— _ ah _ —known?”

“Nothing,” Keith says. “You need more massages.”

Shiro will take all the massages Keith will give him because they are heavenly. He’s in heaven.

“I expect proper compensation,” Keith says, and Shiro realizes he said that out loud. “My services aren’t cheap, you know.”

“Worth it,” Shiro mumbles.

Keith makes a noise—like a laugh on a sigh—and keeps moving. Shiro spaces out at some point, mind drifting between Keith’s hands on his body and the growing heat in his belly, and when he comes to again he’s on his back. There’s something tickling his front, and a warmth against his side. He blinks his eyes open to find Keith curled up against him, finger tracing patterns on his chest.

The finger withdraws when his eyes lock with Shiro’s.

“Hey,” Keith says. He’s a bit flushed, probably from the heat of the room, and his eyes are dark and serious. “Sorry. You fell asleep and I didn’t want to wake you up. I just got you to roll over so your neck wouldn’t be sore.”

Shiro can’t remember the last time he just—fell asleep in front of other people. Especially naked. But he’s not surprised. Both his body and mind know that he’s safe with Keith around.

“It’s fine.” He turns his head to look at Keith more fully. Keith’s put his own robe back on, and Shiro’s is draped over his lower body. “Thank you. Sorry I fell asleep on you. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. A lot of people left, but a lot of them are still here, too,” Keith says. “I was just staying close to, you know. Sell it. I don’t think anyone thinks it’s weird you fell asleep or anything.”

“Oh,” Shiro says. He’d forgotten for a moment that this was for a mission; he’d been relaxing while Keith was picking up his slack, and now Shiro can see the tiredness in Keith’s face and in the slump of his body. “Sorry. Thanks for covering for us.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Keith’s voice is quiet.

“You wanna head out?” Shiro says. “Try to get some real rest?”

Keith agrees, and they make their way back outside. This time they’re told they can keep the same basket, and they’re guided to the bedroom they’ll be in for the duration of their trip. 

There’s only one mattress on the ground.

It’s unsurprising, given the circumstances, and it hardly seems to be of note given everything they’d just done. Shiro sets the basket on the floor before getting into the bed, Keith doing the same on the other side.

“How are you?” Keith says.

Shiro smiles softly at him. “I should be asking you that. I know this isn’t what you signed up for when you agreed to come.”

“Spending time with you is what I signed up for,” Keith says. “The rest isn’t so bad.”

“I guess at least we’re not fighting to the death,” Shiro says lightly, because he knows Keith never will, even if he’s thinking it.

Keith hums in agreement. “Instead I have to get massages from you. It’s terrible.”

“My massages are pretty terrible, though,” Shiro says. His muscles are still tingling in pleasant memories of Keith’s, and he wishes that were something he could give to Keith too. “You’ll have to teach me.”

Keith smiles. “Maybe one day.”

Shiro understands. The number of concrete days they have left together is limited; everything after that is a question of circumstance. A vague promise is the only kind of promise Keith can make.

He’ll take it. It’s probably sad if he thinks about it for too long, but Shiro could always use more hope in his life, even if it’s false.

He prefers empty promises over no promises at all.


	2. Chapter 2

The second day of the rites is devoted to the mind.

Shiro and Keith spent part of their time the night before theorizing what that could entail. The Visarians are telepathic, so that was probably a central focus of the rite initially, but it wouldn’t work now that the celebration has expanded to other species.

They ended up going to sleep before they could come up with any concrete theories. Shiro tried to stay half-awake to avoid waking Keith with any of his nightmares, but eventually his body gave in to exhaustion.

He’s relieved to wake up in the morning nightmare-free. Good days are getting a little more common for him, and he’s hoping it can keep up for just one more night.

They wear just their jackets and slacks today; it seems the formality of the armor is unnecessary, and cumbersome when it comes to the rites. After a light breakfast, and they’re taken to the location of the second day’s activities.

It’s fair to say they didn’t expect it to be a training space. They’re one of the earlier ones, this time; there are only a few others sparring on the mats.

“There are only two parts to the rites today,” the attendant who led them to the room says. “The first is synchronization, and the second, harmony.” The attendant looks between them. “We thought you may prefer this activity because of your history as paladins, but if you’d like there are other ways to help induce synchronization. For example, dancing—”

“No thanks,” Keith says, and Shiro would laugh except he’s not a great dancer either and they don’t need to embarrass themselves like that.

But, sparring. On one hand, it’s something they can easily do without broaching the edge of some uncertain intimacy. On the other hand…

There’s a reason he hasn’t really sparred with Keith ever since coming back to life.

Keith looks at him in question, and Shiro nods his thanks to the attendant. There’s a locker room for them to change into loose shirts and pants, and then they join the other lovers facing each other on the mats.

Most of the people around them aren’t going full out; their movements almost seem—Shiro doesn’t want to call it lazy, but that’s the feeling that he gets. It’s gentle. One person making movement, and at the same time, the other anticipating it and reacting; and the other, again, anticipating that reaction and reacting once more.

He knows that a key element of sparring is being able to get into your opponent’s mind and understand what they’re thinking, but his focus has always been adversarial. He’s never really considered it as a way of getting closer, but it does make sense. If he focuses on that, then it’ll probably be okay.

Keith hasn’t said anything, but he’s watching Shiro carefully, following his lead.

Shiro inhales, exhales, then shifts into a defensive stance and beckons Keith forward.

They dance around each other for a moment, then Keith steps in for a slow jab. Shiro blocks. They do it again—jab, block, jab, block. On the next jab Shiro wraps his arm around Keith’s and uses momentum to get Keith to the floor. Keith goes easily; lets Shiro pin him down before tapping out.

They stand, and Keith’s gaze is worried as he looks at Shiro. Shiro gives him a small smile and a nod, and they settle into ready stances again. By unspoken agreement, Shiro goes on the offense this time. Keith blocks a few hits, then uses the same move Shiro did to pin him.

They warm up with this steady, strange game of follow the leader, and Shiro starts to feel confident in his control. The next time Keith moves in for an attack, Shiro moves quickly and tries to yank him off balance with force, and they move in earnest—

Keith grabs back and throws his bodyweight to the ground, trying to turn the move back on Shiro and throw off his center of gravity. Shiro telegraphs his next attempt at a hold, giving Keith the chance to dodge and weave until he gets a solid stance and a solid grip, and then Shiro lets himself get thrown over Keith’s shoulder.

He rolls and stands, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Keith studies him. This reminds him—Keith’s a fighter, too. Even if it’s Shiro trying to hurt him, Keith won’t let him, not easily, so even if he loses control, it’ll be okay. Keith will be okay.

It’s not a great thought, but it’s a reassuring one.

But Shiro feels okay right now. Actually, he feels good.

Keith gestures him forward, and Shiro goes in for a punch. Keith tries to turn it on him immediately, but Shiro won’t let him—especially because Keith’s using a defensive move that Shiro taught him, and he knows just how to counter. He gets Keith face-down on the ground and wrenches his arm up until Keith taps out.

From Keith’s little smile, Shiro knows he used the move on purpose.

Shiro responds in kind, defending from Keith’s next blow with a feint and a dive that was Keith’s favorite back at the Garrison, and Keith responds appropriately with a series of counterattacks that leaves Shiro dizzy against the mats.

They haven’t sparred for a while in general, but it’s been even longer since they sparred like this—not to prepare for combat, but just to practice technique and feel out each other’s style.

It’s relaxing.

They go on, trading the moves that they’d picked up from each other, and then slowly expanding to others.

Keith does an awful power move he picked up from Allura. Shiro sees it coming, but Allura has absurd Altean strength that Keith doesn’t, so he lets himself get caught up in it because he doesn’t expect it to work. He’s proven very wrong when Keith manages to flip him overhead and slam him completely flat on his back, and he’s left staring winded at the ceiling.

Keith peers down at him, upside-down. “You okay?”

Shiro wheezes out a laugh. “Yeah. You surprised me.”

He’s more careful after that, and it pays off once they start picking up the pace.

Keith really can hold his own. He’s grown into his Galra strength, and he has tricks that he’s picked up from the Blades that Shiro’s only seen a few times here and there, if at all, plus an extra two years of training with his mom.

Shiro’s been slacking in comparison.

But new strength and new moves don’t mask all of Keith’s tells. Shiro may not have anything new to show off, but his foundations are solid, and that’s more than enough for him to keep up.

Keith’s always been quick, and that combined with his ambidexterity makes him hard to handle for a lot of people. But even with his size, Shiro’s not slow, either. And Keith may have more raw strength now, but it’s clear that he’s not used to it—he doesn’t fight like someone built for strength; he only draws on it when he thinks he needs it. Shiro, on the other hand, has been using the same fighting style for a while, and he knows how to use brute force to get Keith onto the ground in a way that will make him stay there.

Which is why Keith does everything he physically can to avoid letting Shiro pin him down in the first place.

Everything he physically can, which at one point apparently involves him locking his thighs around Shiro’s neck and using Shiro’s shock to pin him to the ground that way.

Shiro’s already been slowly getting hard—it’s impossible to avoid with the adrenaline that comes from sparring—but this move just makes him painfully aware of it because Keith is sitting on him with his thighs around his neck.

He knows his hardness doesn’t really mean anything, that it’s just his body’s instinctive reaction to sparring, but that combined with this position is. Really something.

“Jesus, Keith,” he wheezes as Keith loosens the grip of his legs. “Who’d you pick that up from?”

Keith smirks. “I’ll let you guess.” He squeezes with his thighs for a moment, teasing, and Shiro lets out another unholy wheeze. Keith laughs and climbs off. His eyes dart to the tent of Shiro’s sweats as he stands.

Shiro flushes and clears his throat. He knows Keith doesn’t want to see this kind of reaction from him, and he curses his body. “Sorry, I—”

Keith puts a hand up to stop him. “Don’t worry about it. It happens.”

Shiro glances down to Keith’s sweats before he can help himself and—nothing. Of course. He doesn’t know why he thought he might see otherwise. He doesn’t even know why he’s looking—it’s not as though he minds either way.

He supposes it’d just be nice if he weren’t the only one being embarrassed.

“Let’s go again?” he says.

Keith raises his eyebrows at him, eyes sweeping over the way Shiro’s still laying on the ground. “You sure you don’t need a break?”

Shiro rolls his eyes and springs to his feet. “You implying I’m old?”

“I’m not implying anything.”

Shiro rushes in, grabbing across Keith’s shoulders with his left arm as he moves past him. Keith moves, anticipating a chokehold, but Shiro takes advantage of the Altean arm’s range and dexterity to take him out at his knees, flattening him onto his back. Keith tries to roll out of it, but it’s easy to use the Altean arm to wrench his arm up his back to stop his progress, and then Shiro’s sitting on him.

Keith tries to buck him off, and Shiro puts more of his weight on him, pressing his arm further up his back until Keith grunts and taps out.

“Was wondering when you were gonna take advantage of that arm,” Keith says, rolling over.

“Didn’t want you to accuse me of having to cheat.” Shiro reaches down and pulls Keith to his feet. “But I think I’ve gotten you enough times to prove myself.”

Keith looks up at him, and Shiro is momentarily breathless at the sight of his face—not at his face itself, but at the seriousness of his expression, although being distracted by his face wouldn’t be so strange.

Age and life have worn away his softer edges, but Keith’s always had an undeniable beauty to him, and he’s only grown into it with time. Someday, someone will be lucky enough to wake up to this face every day. Will be going through a ceremony like this, but with real intention. Shiro wonders, idly, who Keith will deem worthy of the privilege.

But for now, they’re here, and Keith is frowning at him.

“Shiro,” he says. “You never have to prove yourself to me. I already know.”

“That I’m decent in a fight?”

“More than decent,” Keith says, “and more than in a fight.”

“I—“ Shiro has no idea what to say in response. “Thank you, Keith. I feel the same about you.”

“I’m not sure it’s the same,” Keith says, cryptically, “but I know. Thanks, Shiro.” Keith squeezes his hands, and Shiro startles to realize that they’ve been standing there holding hands this whole time.

Keith lets go. “So. Wanna show me what that arm can really do?”

\----

They spar until they tire.

They end up in a few more mildly compromising positions (Shiro blames Keith; he really picked up a slew of dirty tricks from someone he refuses to name) and Shiro’s lower body reacts in compromising ways, but Keith studiously averts his gaze and avoids mentioning it.

Disappointingly, Keith doesn’t seem affected at all.

Afterwards, they have a quick lunch. Last night, dinner was delivered to their rooms, due to the fact that they were apparently supposed to be having marathon sex or something all evening. Today they have their pick of four restaurants in the resort. They choose one at random, and all of the food looks completely unfamiliar but tastes delicious.

At the end of their meal, they’re each given a bottle of a bright blue liquid to drink, and then led back to their rooms.

They stare at each other.

“They said it was harmony again, right?” Keith says. “Think we’re supposed to be… having mental sex?”

Shiro laughs. “Let me know when you figure out how that works.”

“I’ll think about it in the shower,” Keith says. “That was a lot of sweat for one morning.”

He goes into the bathroom first, and when he finishes, Shiro takes a turn. His muscles are tender from Keith’s massage the day before, and a little sore from their sparring, and he lets himself enjoy the heat and the pounding of the water against his muscles for probably a little too long. His skin is warm and pink by the time he gets out.

Keith is laying flat on the mattress in a red cotton shirt and dark pants, staring up at the ceiling. He turns his head as Shiro sits down beside his head.

“What are you thinking?” Shiro says quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Keith shrugs. “That I’m glad that I get to be here with you,” he says, but his mouth doesn’t move.

Shiro blinks, and rubs his eyes. It was tiredness, maybe, or a trick of the light. “Yeah,” he says. “I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.”

Keith stares at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Oh, I thought—when you said you’re glad we could be here together, I thought you were talking about the mission,” Shiro says. “Unless, you mean this room?”

Keith sits up. “I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t say… what?”

“That I’m glad we could be here together,” Keith says. “I mean, I am glad, and I was thinking that, but I didn’t say it.”

Shiro thinks he knows where this is going, and he doesn’t like it. “You were thinking it?”

Keith looks at his hand, now in his lap. “You were touching me.”

They stare at each other.

“The drink after dinner,” Shiro says. “They gave us their touch telepathy—”

“—for harmony,” Keith groans. “Do you really think they can do that?”

“I mean, it’s the only explanation, right?”

“On one datapoint.” Keith bites his lip. “Here, think of something innocuous. I’ll touch you.”

Something innocuous? Shiro blanks and says he’s ready when he’s locked onto some vague thoughts about the weather on Visari, but when Keith touches him he ends up getting distracted by the softness of his hands.

Keith blinks. “Uh, were you… thinking about… my… hands?”

Shiro tries to not come off as a creep, because it was really just an in-the-moment thing, and it’s not as though he thinks about Keith’s hands that often. “I, uh. Yes. Did you find lotion somewhere? They’re really soft, and I feel like the hot springs dried me out.” He holds up his hands as some kind of proof.

“Oh.” Keith’s brows furrow. “Yeah, in the second drawer in the bathroom.”

“Great, thanks.” It would be weird if he didn’t act on that information, right? “I’ll… be right back.”

Shiro goes to the bathroom and puts on lotion.

When he comes back, Keith is still sitting up, and he’s staring down at his hands. He looks up when Shiro gets into the bed again. “All lotioned up?”

“Yep,” Shiro says. “So. This is easy enough, right? We just have to avoid touching each other for… the rest of the night, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Keith says.

It sounds so simple, but seeing Keith folded in on himself gives Shiro the urge to reach out and take his shoulder, or touch his arm, and—he actually does touch Keith a lot normally, doesn’t he? It’s almost strange to be keeping his hands to himself.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay,” Keith says. “Just thinking. You ever wonder about what’ll happen after this?”

“This?”

Keith shrugs. “I don’t know, after we get back. After we’re done rebuilding.” He gestures vaguely. “After.”

“Sometimes,” Shiro says. He supposes he’d just thought about it today, while he was looking at Keith. “I’ve wondered about what we might end up doing, long-term. Who we might settle down with.”

Keith hums. “So?”

“So?”

“So, who do you think you’ll settle down with?” Keith’s tone is light. Curious.

Keith will never judge him cruelly, which is why Shiro says, “If I’m being honest? Probably no one, at least for now. There are… so, so many things that I feel like I never finished working through. I’m not sure I ever will. And, I mean, it’s a hard thing to open up to someone about.” He’s certain it would scare away any of his would-be suitors—whoever’s left after seeing his physical scars, that is. “But also, I don’t think it’s fair for me to put anyone through that.”

The nightmares, the random panic attacks, the times where he inexplicably just wants to put his head down and cry—it’s a lot to handle, even for him. He won’t make it a burden on someone else.

Keith nudges him lightly, the briefest of touches. “Don’t be afraid of asking for help, okay?”

“I know,” Shiro says. “Thanks. It’s just. The idea of letting someone in, and not finding out until it’s too late whether or not I can trust them? That scares me. So I think… it’ll be a while, for me. What about you?”

“Me?”

Shiro smiles, tries to lighten the mood. “Yeah. Ever think of settling down?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sometimes.” Keith looks down. “Not really settling down, though. I’d want to keep traveling out here with them. I don’t think I could give that up.”

“I get it,” Shiro says. “I don’t think I could give it up either. So another space-faring adventurer? Would you date an alien?”

There’s a long silence on Keith’s part as he chews his lip. He’s thinking about something. Shiro gives him time to do it.

Keith takes in a shaky breath. Exhales. Takes another one. Then jumps, in the way that’s so quintessentially Keith.

“I sort of dated a Galra once. Another Blade. We were on a lot of missions together. Kolivan disapproved, but he never stopped us.” Keith’s lips lift into a slight smirk. “His name was Regris. He, uh—” Keith’s smile slips. “He didn’t make it.”

“I’m so sorry, Keith.” Now, more than ever, Shiro wants to reach for him and hold him, but now, more than ever, he shouldn’t. These memories of Keith’s aren’t for Shiro to see. “I didn’t—I had no idea.”

“There was a lot going on. I never told anyone.” Keith’s voice is quiet, his chin slightly tucked. Shiro can see in every line of his body that he wants to hide. “And we weren’t really serious, but. I still miss him sometimes. And he’s taught me… to really treasure the time I have with people. To not take anything for granted. To be honest. So.”

He reaches out, and puts his hand on Shiro’s arm. “I love you,” he says, and Shiro doesn’t quite get how this telepathy thing works, but he can feel the sentiment echoing in every corner of Keith’s mind.

Keith lets go.

Shiro’s heard this from Keith once before, and he’s sure it was just as true then as it is now. They've been through so much together, have done so much for and with each other, that what's between them really can't be called anything but love.

He reaches out, touches Keith’s elbow. “I love you, too,” he says before pulling back.

Keith studies him, then smiles, watery. “Yeah. I know. Thanks, Shiro. Sorry for bringing down the mood.”

“You didn’t,” Shiro says. “I’m glad you told me. You can talk to me about anything, Keith.”

“I know,” Keith says again. “Let’s talk about something else, okay?”

The conversation moves on to other topics, but Shiro has seen Keith cry more than a few times, and he can’t stop himself from looking at the familiar gleam of unshed tears.

He doesn’t know what went wrong or when, but he spends the rest of the night certain that he’s missing something.

\----

The third day of the rites is dedicated to the joining of the souls, and it only has one component—harmony, otherwise known as the bonding ceremony.

It takes the entire morning to get prepared.

Shiro has another good night, free of dreams, and goes to breakfast ready for the day.

After breakfast, they have to bathe together—but not each other, thankfully—in the hot springs. Then they’re given another dose of the telepathy-inducing drink and made to hold each other’s hands and stare into each other’s eyes for an excruciating unknown amount of time for mental preparation.

Keith shares memories of his time with the Blades. Shiro’s memories of that time are a strange mix of the clone’s experiences and his own from drifting in the consciousness of the Black Lion, and it still gives him a headache to think about, but Keith seems fine carrying the conversation, so to speak. Shiro can feel his lingering sadness from the night before on the edges of his mind, but he doesn’t want to ask, and Keith doesn’t say anything.

After that, they’re given ceremonial robes to dress each other in. Usually the robes are made by the family and friends of those participating, but Shiro guesses the Visarians must have come together to make Shiro and Keith’s. The robes are in their original paladin colors—Shiro’s is mainly black, and Keith’s is mainly red. They’re trimmed with gold, the symbol of Voltron embroidered along the hems of the sleeves and the lions around the collar, and worn over black undersuits and tied off with belts.

Keith looks elegant in his. Red’s always been a good color for him, and the cut and style accentuates his frame. The gold trim gives him a regal flair that would never be found on clothing he chooses from himself. Objectively speaking, he’s a vision come to life.

“You look good,” Shiro says.

Keith looks at him from where he’s standing by the mirror fiddling with his hair. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Shiro steps closer. “Can I help?”

“Can you braid?”

“Uh.”

Keith laughs. “Maybe next time. I’ll just do it on the side for now.” He sweeps his hair over one shoulder and Shiro watches, mesmerized, as he twists it with deft fingers before tying it off at the bottom. He lowers his hands. “Look okay?”

“More than,” Shiro says. “I’m a doormat standing next to you.”

“Yeah, right.” Keith rolls his eyes, but there’s a pleased flush spreading across his face. “Let’s go.”

They make their way over to the springs where the ceremony is happening. Familiar faces are waiting for them by the entrance.

“Looking good, guys!” Pidge calls out across the space as Lance wolf whistles.

Keith blinks, expression startled. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Dude, there’s no way we’d miss this!” Hunk says. “It’s supposed to be an incredibly beautiful ceremony. I brought a whole backpack of tissues and everything.”

“I only wish I could have experienced a true Visarian ceremony,” Coran says with a grand sigh. “Even in my youth they were renowned for their passion and beauty. It is a great honor to be able to participate.”

“Did you enjoy the previous days?” Allura says. She glances at Lance, whose arm is slung around her shoulders. “When we heard about it, we really did think it could be just what you need. I know the both of you have a great many responsibilities, and it can be very difficult to get away.”

Shiro glances at Keith. “Oh, we, uh. We participated in the rites.”

Shiro expected some surprise from that statement, but instead everyone continues to stare at them expectantly.

Okay. Well. He can’t blame them for not understanding the depth of the ceremony. Shiro glances at Keith again, and Keith shrugs.

“It was nice. We had a relaxing time,” Shiro says finally, which isn’t totally untrue. “Thank you for giving us the chance to come out here.”

“Of course,” Allura says. “Lance and I considered, but…” They exchange wry smiles.

“Well, we’re glad you guys had fun!” Lance says. He gives them a big thumbs up with the hand not around Allura.

Shiro wants to know what was in that pause, but a Visarian attendant hurries up to them and urges them to please proceed to the waterfall for the ceremony.

The area that the ceremony takes place in is undeniably beautiful. There are no buildings here; just lush forest and solid rocks surrounding a sparkling crystal spring. The trees are towering, but they don’t completely conceal the view of the sky. The sun is high, and there’s a rainbow blossoming across it that Shiro suspects is unnatural. In the back are a series of waterfalls, tall and cascading against a cliff face. There’s something carved into the rock, but Shiro can’t tell what it is.

He glances over to Keith, remembering his excitement at seeing the architecture when he first arrived. The same wonder is reflected in his eyes as he looks at their surroundings now, lips parted softly as he takes it all in. After a moment, he catches Shiro staring, but Shiro doesn’t bother to try to hide his smile.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Shiro says.

Keith studies him, and gives him a small smile in return. “Yeah, it is.”

There’s a click, and they turn to see Pidge holding up a camera. “For posterity,” she says.

For blackmail, more like.

Shiro lets her have her fun as they shuffle forward with the crowd.

“Do you know what’s involved in the ceremony?” Shiro asks Allura as they walk.

“Oh, I know this!” Coran says, holding up a finger. “I had a cousin who participated. Of course, this was… more than a few years ago, but! I’m sure the principles remain similar. The key part is the harmonization! You will both enter behind the waterfall,” he says, pointing over to it, “where the elder will lead you through a secret ceremony to synchronize your souls.”

“What does that mean?” Keith says.

“Well, it certainly wouldn’t be a secret ceremony if I knew what it entailed, now would it?”

“So it’s just… a soul synchronizing ceremony?” Shiro says.

“There’s also a gift,” Allura says, “bestowed upon the bonded by the springs.”

“By the springs,” Keith repeats.

“There’s a spirit in the springs that can provide lasting happiness to all those who are making an honest effort to seek it,” Allura says, and Shiro hides his flinch at the word honest. “It’s the intention behind the rites.”

“As a matter of fact,” Coran says, “those markings you see on the wall are actually rules that you should follow to achieve lasting happiness! There were three thousand or so back when my cousin was here, but I’ve heard there are over four thousand now! Thank goodness you don’t have to memorize them anymore, eh?”

Memorize them? In how long? It seems like it might be interesting to know what’s written on there, but having to commit them all to memory seems… excessive.

“Lasting happiness,” Keith says. “In general? Not necessarily with each other?”

Shiro knows their futures lay divergent. His heart stings at the reminder anyways.

“Ideally it would be with your bondmate,” Coran says, “but it depends. For example, my cousin was given the gift of realization. And let me tell you, it was certainly not a happy one at the time, but in terms of her lasting happiness, it was just the thing she needed.”

“Hope you two have better luck,” Lance says in a way that’s clearly meant to be joking.

Shiro laughs weakly. “Yeah.”

“How can the springs gift realization?” Keith says.

“The water,” Allura says. “The spirit in the springs knows what gifts to grant, and imbues the water with the gifts. The elder conducting the ceremony communicates with the spirit to pass on the message of the gifts to you.”

“I see,” Keith says, in the way that sounds very much like he does not see.

Shiro doesn’t totally get it either, but if there’s one thing he knows it’s that there’s a lot in the universe that he doesn’t understand. A magical water spirit seems almost normal in comparison.

“Wonder what they would think to give us,” Shiro says to Keith.

Keith looks out over at the waterfall. “I wonder too.”

\----

It’s cold behind the waterfall, and quiet. The sounds of the water crashing into the springs somehow seems muted, even though Shiro thinks it should seem louder.

Their friends stand outside, past the edge of the waterfall, where they can see what’s going on but they can’t hear over the sound of the water.

“Welcome, Paladins of Voltron,” the Visarian elder says. They’re wearing a simple light blue robe, and carrying two glass vials. “We are honored to have you in our ceremony today.”

“We are honored to take part,” Shiro says. Keith, holding onto his arm, agrees.

“Please,” the elder says, gesturing them closer to the waterfall. “Take hands with each other, and extend your closer hands into the water. This will let you communicate with both each other, and the spirit of the springs.”

The telepathy is still in effect, and Shiro can feel vague, nervous tension that he doesn’t think is his. He tries to think calm thoughts. Focuses on the drumming of the water until the nervous tension ebbs.

“Now,” the elder says. “Please share with each other the moment that you knew you would be each other’s happiness.”

Shiro pauses.

“He told me he wouldn’t give up on me,” Keith says quietly, his sincerity ringing through their temporary telepathic bond. Shiro looks at him, and Keith meets his eyes. He doesn’t look away. “I lost my dad when I was young, and no one else had ever said anything like that to me. I didn’t know how much he’d mean to me, but that’s the moment I knew that he was going to be someone important in my life.”

_ I’ve loved you, in some way, ever since then _ , Keith doesn’t say, but Shiro can feel the sentiment in every inch of his body and he shudders.

He knows he’s had an impact on Keith’s life, but they’ve never talked about the details of it, or discussed exactly how much.

Keith’s quiet intensity has the elder nodding solemnly. “And you?” he says to Shiro.

Shiro’s the same as Keith—he’s not in love with him, but he does love him, too. He tries to pinpoint the moment that began, and finds that he can’t. And that’s his answer.

“I’m not sure,” he says. Keith glances down, but looks up again when Shiro starts talking again. “Keith is… Even when he didn’t think he was deserving of love himself, he still had so much love to give. And he doesn’t always show it in the most obvious ways, but he shows it in the ways that matter. And I think… all of those little moments were the moment for me. Anyone would be lucky to spend their life with him.”

Keith’s smile is soft, but again Shiro feels the undercurrent of sadness that was there the first night. He can’t pick up any concrete thoughts associated with it—thinks, maybe, that Keith is avoiding thinking about it—but it tugs at his heart all the same, tightening his chest and making him want to both smile and cry.

It just makes him more confused.

“The bond between you is intense,” the elder comments, “but I suppose we should have expected no less from Paladins of Voltron.”

They step up to the waterfall and silently fill the two vials with water, one at a time. They turn to Keith first.

“Your self-awareness has been hard-earned, and it is now a great strength,” they say. “You know where your happiness lies, and it is not as far from your grasp as you presume. The spring’s gift to you is reassurance.” They hand Keith a small vial of blue liquid as Shiro struggles to parse the cryptic message.

Keith knows where his happiness lies, but he thinks it’s out of his reach? Something he needs reassurance to pursue? Shiro realizes Keith didn’t actually answer his question from yesterday, about who he might settle down with now that they have the chance. Maybe there’s someone that Keith does have in mind? Someone this will give him renewed strength to go after?

Shiro is—he’s glad, that Keith will finally get the happy ending he deserves, but he can’t help the way his heart twinges at the reminder that their paths will inevitably diverge. Maybe in another lifetime, another universe, things wouldn’t have ended up this way.

Then Keith says, “Thank you,” quietly as he accepts the vial and steps back, and it’s Shiro’s turn.

“You’ve been through much, and you take nothing for granted,” the elder says to Shiro. “You don’t believe you are deserving of happiness, which makes it difficult for you to see it when it takes root. To you, we give the gift of insight.” They hand him a vial of shimmering, translucent red.

Shiro can’t disagree with any of that, but if a little drink can fix all of his problems, he’ll praise Visari to the skies.

“Bottoms up,” he says to Keith.

Keith lifts the corner of his lips. They clink their glasses and drink before returning it to the elder.

They smile. “We wish you a lifetime of happiness.”

\----

“So beautiful.” Hunk is wibbling into his tissues when they emerge. “All my friends grown up and taking part in alien group weddings. Come here.” He bundles them in for a big hug, which Pidge immediately jumps in on, followed by Lance and Allura.

“So, how was it?” Pidge says as the hug loosens and they’re all left standing in a circle. “What happened? What’s the secret ceremony? It looked like you guys just kind of… stood around. I mean, you looked good doing it, don’t get me wrong.”

“We can’t just tell you all their secrets,” Keith says, even though the only one who ever even implied it was a secret was Coran.

“It’s for science!” Pidge says.

“Could you at least tell us what your gifts were?” Lance says. “Come on, we’re dying for deets here.”

“I think we’ll keep it private for now,” Shiro says.

“Boo,” Pidge says. “Well you should let me know if you feel like they end up having any impact. I am very curious about how this all works.”

“Aw, c’mon, Pidge, don’t ruin the magic,” Lance says.

Allura laughs. “Let’s leave it be until they’re ready to share. Did the two of you plan on staying the night here?”

“Actually, we were thinking of starting to head back this evening,” Shiro says, glancing at Keith. “Krolia and Kolivan are visiting Earth and I know Keith would like to be there with them as soon as he can.”

“Oh, you should have invited them to stop by!” Allura says. “I’m sure they would have appreciated it. It’s not every day one has an excuse to observe a Visari bonding ceremony.”

Shiro’s not sure a sham bonding between him and Keith is something Krolia would appreciate, but he doesn’t voice the thought aloud.

“We’ll catch them up on what happened,” Shiro says. “But, since you’re all here, why don’t we get dinner? It’d be great to spend time together before we head out again.”

They spend the rest of the evening together with their old team. Without Voltron and the Castle of Lions to unite their efforts, the team has felt a bit scattered lately; this is the first time that they’ve all gotten together in a while. Catching up is nice, but it also makes Shiro dwell on the future where they drift farther and farther out into their respective fields, and away from each other, not by intention, but by the flow of life.

Brought together by circumstance, and distanced by it as well. It really is only fitting.

Afterwards, they make a quick trip to say goodbye to Felos, and introduce them to the rest of the Paladins. Shiro presses himself against Keith’s side and tries his best to be enthusiastic about the rites; he thinks he does well enough. Felos seems pleased when they eventually depart.

Between Keith and Shiro, it’s quick and easy to get the ship back into space, and soon they have it on autopilot, course set back to Earth.

“Well,” Shiro says in the hall in front of their quarters. “In the end, it really wasn’t so bad.”

“Yeah,” Keith says. He pauses, then says, “It was nice getting to spend time with you. Thanks for having me along.”

“Thanks for coming,” Shiro says. “It was… I’m glad, that I got to be here with you.”

Keith gives him one of his small smiles. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with.”

There’s something in the air right now, urging Shiro to say something, or do something, but he doesn’t know what. Finally, when the silence has already gone on for too long, he says, “Good night, Keith.”

Keith lingers a moment more before he says, “Night, Shiro. See you tomorrow,” and enters his quarters, the door clicking shut behind him with an odd sense of finality.

Keith’s face and the soft resignation of his voice lingers in Shiro’s mind, and he knows. He knows he’s missing something.

He just doesn’t know what.


	3. Chapter 3

Shiro wakes up to the soft chime of an incoming transmission. He sighs—a call on the first day of their return journey, really? But he knew this was coming; knew that the moment they left Visari, reality would begin to take hold once more.

It’s probably someone from Earth, so he should look somewhat presentable—he throws on his jacket and sweatpants again, combs back his hair with his fingers, and calls it a day.

He regrets it when he comes out and sees Keith in full armor, already speaking with Felos on the screen. This is the second time in a row, now, where Keith is far more prepared than him.

But—speaking with Felos? Shiro frowns and hopes that they didn’t commit some kind of faux pas by leaving the day of the ceremony. He thought that was always in the plan—it was even noted in the brief.

Keith glances at Shiro when he enters, but not for long before he turns back to the screen.

“Shiro the Hero!” Felos says when they catch sight of Shiro.

“Hello again, Felos,” Shiro says.

Keith stares at him as Felos says, “Again? I don’t believe I’ve had the honor of meeting you yet.”

“We… haven’t?” Shiro looks at Keith, who’s staring at him like he’s crazy. He scrambles for an excuse, even though he doesn’t know what’s going on. “We haven’t. Sorry. Just, from… all I’ve heard about you from Allura, it feels like we have.”

“Oh yes, Allura!” Felos says. “She’s delightful. I’m looking forward to seeing her for the final day of the ceremony. And as I was just telling your partner, we are very excited to have Paladins of Voltron participating in our sacred celebration!”

Shiro is… dreaming. Or, he was dreaming?

“We’re excited to be here,” Keith says, as he said before.

“We’ve made sure everything is ready for your arrival,” Felos says. “Our bonding rites are highly respected across the galaxy. I’m certain that you will enjoy taking part in them.”

“I think—”

Shiro touches his shoulder, and Keith falls silent immediately. “We’re honored to be a part of it,” he says to Felos.

Keith is frowning at him, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Wonderful!” Felos says, looking between the two of them. “We’re looking forward to your arrival.”

Keith finishes the conversation with Felos—getting the landing dock details, saying goodbye—before turning again to Shiro. “What was that?”

Shiro tries to figure out how to explain this in a way that won’t send Keith shipping him back to Earth immediately. “Keith, this is going to sound crazy, but I think I just—this conversation, I knew exactly what everyone was going to say. I think I dreamed everything that’s going to happen.”

Keith stares at him for a long moment, then says, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, what’s going to happen?”

“You believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“That’s—You—Because I sound crazy!”

“I’ll decide that,” Keith says. “So, lay it on me. What are we getting into?”

Shiro tells him the general details of the three-day ceremony—everything they had to take part in, but not exactly all the details of what happened between them, or what they talked about. Keith’s frown grows deeper with each new detail, but he doesn’t seem horrified or anything by the time Shiro reaches the end.

“You were okay with all this?” Keith says.

“It was nice to be able to spend time with you in, you know, a not-fighting-for-our-lives context,” Shiro says. “But it’s a lot, definitely, and I completely understand if it’s too much. We can tell Felos we’ve changed our minds.”

“It’s okay,” Keith says. “It’s better if we do it, right?” He stands. “Besides, you already know what we’re getting into, so this should be easy.”

Shiro laughs despite himself. “You’re taking this pretty well.”

Keith doesn’t miss a beat. “You wouldn’t lie to me, Shiro. Especially not about something like this. Come on. I hope you’re ready for the best massage of your life.”

“You think you can top yourself?”

Keith smirks. “I know it.”

The rest of their journey and meeting up with Felos is more or less what Shiro remembers—and if it’s less it’s because he really can’t remember all the details of what he said and did when he saw this in his dreams.

He’d told Keith their armor wouldn’t be necessary, so it’s easier to shed their clothes in the changing rooms before heading to the baths. Shiro thinks they’re both less nervous now that they know what’s coming. The air between them is more relaxed and less tensely awkward as Keith washes his hair and back, though Keith’s hands are still tentative when they brush across his skin and he still flushes when he comes around to Shiro’s front.

Shiro, remembering his dreams, keeps his hands delicately plastered to his crotch.

Shiro pauses when they switch. “I didn’t mention this, but. In the dream I—I had a flashback, sort of. Of our fight.” He glances at Keith’s scar, but the rush of panic doesn’t come.

“What do you need from me?” Keith says.

“Just—wanted to warn you,” Shiro says. “In case it happens again. Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Keith says, though Shiro can tell from his expression he’s worrying just from Shiro having said that.

But it goes better this time, maybe because Shiro knows what’s coming. Because he’s being careful about it. Or maybe because, in his dreams, he’d spent so much time in contact with Keith—massaging him, sparring with him, sleeping with him.

Maybe his mind is starting to understand that he can be safe.

When they get to the massage room, Keith wants to take care of him first.

“Why is there so much stuff in here?” he says, looking in the basket with the oils as Shiro stretches himself out on the ground.

Shiro shrugs. “We just used the one that looks like normal oil. The yellow one. We didn’t even touch the rest.”

“Not very adventurous of us,” Keith says. He tips the basket toward Shiro. “What do you think? Want to give one a shot?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Pick a color,” Keith says.

“Uh.” Shiro picks the first color that pops into his mind. “Purple?”

“There is purple,” Keith says, pulling the bottle out. He pours a bit on his hands. “Feels like oil.”

“That’s a start,” Shiro says, and lets Keith hover over him and work it onto his body.

It really does feel like oil. There’s no warming or cooling or tingling on his skin, but Keith’s hands feel nice, leaving hot trails along his back and stoking a growing fire in his belly. His core is hot. Too hot. There’s a loud moan, and he realizes it’s coming from him.

His eyes fly open. “Keith, stop.”

Keith’s weight leaves him in a heartbeat, then Keith is crouching down beside him. “Shiro, what’s wrong? Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s—” The purple vial must be a precursor for what’s to come. Preparation for the next step. He’s burning to have Keith’s hands back on his skin, in different places, but he also knows it’s the heat of the liquid talking. “It’s some kind of aphrodisiac,” he says quietly.

“Aphro—” Keith starts, then cuts himself off, eyes going to Shiro’s ass. “Are you…?”

“Really, really hard?” Shiro says. “Yeah. Sorry.”

He knows from Keith’s reactions in his dreams that Keith is uncomfortable seeing him like this. He’s only glad that as long as he can stay face down, Keith doesn’t have to see a thing.

“Hold on, let me—here,” Keith says, holding a robe over Shiro and helping him put his arms through.

Shiro sits up, pulling the robe closed around his body and tying it shut. Keith’s own robe is still over his arm, and Shiro is acutely aware that Keith is naked.

It’s not new; he’s been seeing Keith naked a lot lately, but something about the lighting where Keith is standing makes him especially ethereal. He wants to touch him; to feel their skin pressed together, to breathe in his scent, to watch him as—

Shiro violently shuts down that train of thought and curses the aphrodisiac. He’ll have to make a note to avoid that oil from now on.

Keith reaches out to take his arm, but Shiro jerks away. “Don’t,” he says quietly, then, “Sorry. I think—I think it’ll make it worse.”

Keith swallows. “Right. Okay. Let’s go.”

They make their way back to the room. If anyone notices Shiro’s flushed state, they don’t comment—and Shiro suspects that it’s as much because of the fact that it’s expected as it is about courtesy, and somehow that makes him even hotter.

Shiro feels out of it, somewhere between incredibly aroused and incredibly drained as he rolls into the bed and Keith pulls the blanket over him, but he’s present enough to say, “M’sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Keith says. “It’s been a long few days for you. Rest, Shiro.”

Shiro closes his eyes, tries to ignore the fire consuming him from the inside, and breathes.

\----

Shiro wakes up to the soft chime of an incoming transmission.

He’s back on the ship. But—why? He checks his datapad, and sits up fully awake when he sees the date. It’s the first day of the ceremony, all over again. A dream within a dream… within a dream? It can’t be, can it?

He climbs out of bed and makes his way over to the cockpit. Keith is there, speaking with Felos. He glances up when he hears Shiro coming over, then does a double take at his state of undress.

“Shiro the Hero!” Felos says as they catch sight of him, and Shiro waves. “Oh! I hope I’m not interrupting!”

“You’re, uh, no,” Keith says, without taking his eyes off Shiro. “We’ll, uh, we’ll see you when we land. If you could send over the details. Thanks.” He cuts the connection without waiting for an answer. “Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?”

“No,” Shiro says. “No? I don’t think so? Possibly?”

Did having to spend all night wanting to do unspeakable things with Keith because of a magic potion count as a nightmare? And now that he has that thought, the same intrusive urge flares up again, and he tamps it down.

Keith stands and steps closer, peering into his eyes. “Shiro, you’re worrying me.”

“This is the third time I’m living this day,” Shiro says. “And—“

“You’re stuck in a time loop?” Keith says.

“A—A what?” Shiro says. “Those are real?”

“Unfortunately,” Keith says. “But… since it’s a singularity event, it’s based on proximity, so if it’s affecting you then it should be affecting me, too.” He frowns. “Do you remember when this started? Did you go anywhere without me?”

“No,” Shiro says. “We were together the whole time, until we went to bed. Everything seemed normal, until I woke up and it was today again. I have no idea how it happened.”

“Okay,” Keith says. “Walk me through the rest of today. What’s going to happen?”

Shiro recaps the sequence of events quickly—land, tour, baths, massage, private time. As he did the day before (the loop before?), Keith seems to take it all in stride.

“How can I break out of this?” Shiro says once he’s finished.

“If it’s not proximity-based like a true singularity event,” Keith says, “then maybe it’s induced by something else. Like a curse, or something. And you have to do something specific to break it.”

Has Shiro done anything curse-worthy lately?

“The only thing I can think of is this bonding ceremony,” he says.

“The ceremony?”

“I don’t know, maybe the spirit of the springs is cursing me for lying about our relationship and getting bonded without meaning it and ruining the sanctity of love?” Shiro says. “But I guess that’s the same as the proximity-based event—it would have affected you too, right?”

“Oh,” Keith says. He looks down. “Maybe. I didn’t know you’d gone through with the bonding already. I thought it was just today you were repeating.”

“It is just today I’m repeating.”

Keith looks up again. “What?”

“I lived all the way through the wedding, but I’m stuck repeating today,” Shiro says.

“This definitely sounds like a curse, then, otherwise you’d be repeating the whole time cycle.” Keith crosses his arms. “It sounds like you have to do something right to break through to the next day.”

Shiro sighs. “I’m not even sure what I’m doing wrong.”

“You mentioned that it could have to do with lying about our relationship?” Keith says. “So maybe what you need to do is be honest.”

So Shiro is honest.

When they land, he tells Felos that actually they realized they’re not quite ready for the rites.

“Oh.” Felos visibly deflates before his eyes.

“We’d love to take part in what we can, and see what’s going on, but our relationship isn’t at that stage yet,” Shiro says.

“I understand,” Felos says. “Please, do whatever makes you comfortable. This is meant to celebrate the bond between you, in whichever way is true to it.”

Maybe this is the right move, then—he needs to act in a way that’s true to his relationship with Keith in order to make it out. No more awkwardly forced intimacy. Just the steady friendship that Keith wants and expects from him.

Felos leaves them at a different resort this time.

It seems that even observers of the ceremony celebrate the same things; the activities of the first day revolve around caring for the body, and it seems like everyone is also participating in a massive spa day.

It’s a bit similar to the place they were previously for the rites, except here there are far fewer groups of two, and none of the groups have the same intense focus on each other that the lovers going through the rites did.

They end up going for a soak in the springs.

When they get in, Keith closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the rocks. He seems content to sit in silence, so Shiro leaves him to it. He deserves the rest. Shiro almost wishes there was still an excuse to massage Keith. He seems like he needs it.

And maybe Shiro needs it too. After so many days of spending his time interacting with Keith, coming back to his own self feels… lonely. He spends most of his time with his own thoughts. It was nice to spend it with someone else for a while.

He closes his eyes, too, and tries his best to think of nothing. He doesn’t realize he’s sinking until he’s blowing bubbles into the water, and he splashes back up with a cough.

Keith’s eyes fly open in alarm. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Shiro coughs. “Sorry, was just… thinking. I’m fine.”

“Let’s get out for a while,” Keith says. “The water’s pretty hot.” He’s already climbing out, and he turns back to help Shiro up.

After they towel off and put on robes, they go out into the common area where there are several food stands scattered about.

Shiro gets them water and a table. He looks around to flag Keith down and finds him standing near a food stand, waiting. What looks like a Galra is standing next to him, talking to him with an easy smile. Keith’s face is angled away from Shiro, but from his stance Shiro can tell that he doesn’t seem annoyed; he seems relaxed. Friendly, even.

Shiro doesn’t like it.

Keith shouldn’t have to put up with random strangers accosting him while he’s trying to enjoy himself. But if someone wants to meet the Black Paladin, Shiro might as well help Keith ease the burden of interaction.

He gets to his feet and makes his way over to introduce himself, but the other leaves immediately upon seeing him heading over.

Keith turns his head and blinks at Shiro. “Oh, hey. Our orders aren’t done yet.”

“I can wait with you,” Shiro says.

“I thought you were gonna grab a table?”

Shiro shrugs, and gestures around the room where it’s clear there’s no shortage of free space. “I think we’ll be fine. I don’t want you to get bored.”

“Oh,” Keith says. “Thanks.”

There’s a moment of silence, then Shiro says, “So, who was that guy you were talking to?”

“Hm?”

“Earlier, before I came.”

“He’s from New Daibazaal,” Keith says. “He recognized me from when I was helping out my mom and Kolivan. Why?”

“No reason,” Shiro says very casually. “He just. Seemed interested in you.”

Keith stares at him. “Does that bother you?”

“Does it bother you?”

“No, he just wanted to talk.” Keith hasn’t stopped staring at his face, and Shiro grows more unsettled. “Is that why you came over here?”

“No,” Shiro says, then, “Maybe. You’re just—This is supposed to be a vacation for us. You’re supposed to be relaxing, not having to be, you know. Senior Blade. Black Paladin. Any of those things.”

“Right.”

“I just—I know I get bothered when I’m trying to relax but I feel like I have obligations to people,” Shiro says. “I just didn’t want you to have to experience the same thing. But if you’re okay with it, I mean—Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have stepped in..”

“Right.” Keith’s gaze loses its intensity and he smiles, one corner of his mouth lifting into something a little wry—amusement, Shiro thinks, at his flustered apology. “No, I appreciate it. Thanks, Shiro.”

“Of course,” Shiro says.

“I didn’t mind talking to him, though,” Keith says, slowly, looking somewhere past Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro doesn’t turn to see if the man’s there or not. “He’s interested in the Blades. He’s got experience with advanced Galra tech, wanted to help put it to good use. He reminds me of another tech expert I used to work with, actually. We used to go on a lot of missions together, back when I first joined.”

“Regris?” Shiro says.

Keith’s gaze snaps to his, eyes wide, and Shiro recalls too late that that’s a name that he isn’t supposed to know.

“Where’d you hear that name?” Keith says.

“I—You told me,” Shiro says. “Sorry, it’s the, uh—the time loop. One of the earlier times you brought up Regris.” It was ‘tomorrow’ that Keith had brought up Regris, but explaining that right now seems like more trouble than it’s worth.

“Oh,” Keith says. “ I didn’t think I’d talk about him.”

The  _ with you _ goes unspoken, but it hurts Shiro anyways. He wants to take care of Keith; to be there for him as he’s been there for Shiro, but it’s hard to do when Keith isn’t willing to let him in and Shiro isn’t willing to push. He knows that what they need is just more time together, but that isn’t something that they’ve had much of these past months, and they’re going to have even less of it in the future.

“You didn’t say a lot about him,” Shiro says. “I’m sorry I brought him up.”

“No, it’s—if I told you, it was for a reason,” Keith says. “Even if I don’t remember it.”

Shiro laughs helplessly, and Keith lifts his head. “What?”

“It’s just... When I tell you about the time loop, you handle it so well. It surprises me, that’s all.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, Shiro,” Keith says. “Especially not about something like this.”

“That surprises me too,” Shiro says.

Keith hums, a question.

“Your faith in me,” Shiro says. “You never ask for proof. You just—believe me.”

Keith’s lips quirk into a tired smile. “We’ve been through a lot together, Shiro. No matter what happens, I’ll believe in you. That’s not gonna change.”

Shiro thinks, again, selfishly, that Keith is someone he wants to hold on to, even if the right thing to do is to let him go.

“I’m lucky,” he says, “that I was able to meet you. That I get to call you my friend.”

Keith’s smile grows a little wider, and somehow a little weaker, all at once. “I’m lucky, too.”

Keith looks like he wants to say something else, but then the Visarian at the food stand calls out his name, and the moment is lost.

\----

Shiro wakes up to the soft chime of an incoming transmission, and a sense of impending doom.

Being honest had done nothing except teach him that there’s probably more things that Keith’s keeping hidden, but given his reaction to Shiro knowing about Regris, he doesn’t think it’s right to pry. It’s not fair to Keith if Shiro gets him to reveal things he won’t remember telling Shiro about later.

He tries to think about what he could’ve done wrong, how he wasn’t being true.

Maybe it’s because he ruined Keith’s chances with that man who had approached him? Maybe the point of this is for him to help Keith find his lasting happiness?

Shiro tries being honest again, taking them to the other resort. He has no sense of how long they were actually in the baths, so Shiro claims to be extremely hungry in order to get them into the common area.

“Are you looking for something specific?” Keith says.

“What? No.”

“I mean, you can’t even stop looking around the room to answer the question.”

Keith’s looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a laugh on his face, and Shiro flushes and clears his throat. “Oh. Uh. Sorry. Kind of, maybe?”

“What are you looking for?”

“There’s this guy,” Shiro says, and Keith’s smile fades. “It’s not for the Garrison, or anything like that,” he says quickly. He doesn’t want Keith to think he’s bringing even more work into this.

“Oh,” Keith says, smirk back on his face. “Someone catch your eye?”

“Uh, kind of? I think you might like him,” Shiro says.

Keith blinks at him. “Me?”

“Yeah.” Shiro catches sight of the man by the same food stand Keith was at the day before. “Oh, he’s over there. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“I…” Keith looks between Shiro and the man, frowning. “I guess I can.”

Shiro smiles encouragingly as Keith walks over. The man lights up at the sight of Keith and immediately engages him in conversation, and Shiro watches with mixed feelings as Keith’s stiff posture relaxes into casual ease.

He lets himself feel it.

He’s not a bad friend for not wanting Keith to leave. He’s only a bad friend if he stops him.

\----

Shiro wakes up to the soft chime of an incoming transmission, and he is confused.

He thought the past loop went fairly well. Keith had a decently long conversation with the man whose name Shiro is ashamed to admit he’s forgotten already, and according to Keith they’d exchanged contact information. That seemed like the right path to happiness, right?

Maybe they just hadn’t spent enough time together, since Keith had felt compelled to return to Shiro?

So this time Shiro gets them to the non-lovers’ resort, takes a bite of food, and feigns instant food poisoning. Unfortunately, no matter how much he tries, he can’t convince Keith to let him suffer in peace—Keith insists on setting up camp outside the bathroom in case Shiro needs anything, since they don’t have communicators.

The loop is a bust.

\----

It turns out that it’s really difficult to orchestrate an organic meeting.

The night of the twelfth failure, after a sorry attempt involving Shiro trying to get Keith to spill water on the man’s front, Shiro says to Keith, “If I were to set you up with someone, how would you want me to do it?”

Keith stares at him. “Is that why you were being so weird today?”

“Wha—How was I being weird?”

“How were you not being weird is the better question,” Keith mutters, which is offensive. Shiro takes offense. “I don’t want you to set me up with anyone, Shiro.”

“You might not know that you want me to—”

“Trust me,” Keith says. “I definitely don’t want you to. Why do you want to so much?”

“It’s just—the time loops,” Shiro says. “This whole celebration is about finding lasting happiness, so I thought if I could help you find yours, then I could break the loop.”

“If you’re the one stuck,” Keith says, “then why not try to find your own?”

Shiro stares. Why has he never thought of that? Maybe because— “I think it’ll take a long time for that to happen.”

“Well,” Keith says, “good thing time is what you’ve got.”

\----

Shiro thinks he’s happy enough.

He’s alive, he’s well-respected, he has a few close friends, he’s done fighting wars for the foreseeable future. It’s a better life than he feels like he deserves, sometimes, after all he’s been through and all he’s done.

It feels wrong to ask for anything more.

But he’s not interested in living one day over and over for the rest of his life—it seems worse, somehow, than the endless infinity of the Black Lion—so he’ll make an effort for the sake of not falling into insanity, if nothing else.

“What makes me happy?” he asks Keith when they’re in the springs the next loop.

Keith blinks at him. “The stars. Cats. Helping others. I feel like I need context.”

“The celebration is about lasting happiness,” Shiro says. “I guess… I just started thinking about how to try to find mine.”

“You can try looking in your memories,” Keith says, “for times when you think to yourself, ‘I don’t want this moment to end,’ and try to figure out the patterns. What you’re doing, who you’re with.” His gaze is a bit unfocused, but his eyes are bright, like he’s rifling through his own past. His voice softens. “That rush you get every time you’re flying. That’s what I look for.”

“Yeah?” Shiro says. “What makes you happy, Keith?”

Keith’s gaze blinks back into focus on Shiro’s face and he’s silent for a moment. Then he looks out over the water. “Sunsets.”

“Do you—We can go out into the city today, try to see one,” Shiro says. “If you want.”

“I’d like that,” Keith says, quietly. “Thank you.”

Later that night, when they’re in bed after a quiet sunset dinner on the roof, Shiro tries to think about Keith’s words. It’s true; every moment he’s behind the controls of a ship is a moment that he doesn’t want to end. It was especially true for the Black Lion, and flying with his team. With Keith.

Keith’s massages are excellent. He almost regrets that, due to avoiding the rites, he hasn’t had an excuse for a massage since the second loop. But if he had to choose a moment from the time loop to stay in forever, that one would definitely be it.

Although just being able to talk to him is good, too. Most of the time it feels like they’re stuck in parallel streams—Captain of the ATLAS and Leader of Voltron, working towards the same direction, but with their paths never intersecting. He’s missed the chance to just be able to talk, not about work, and not with any time pressure. Any moment he can do that is a moment he wants to last.

Moments with Keith, Shiro realizes, are moments he wants to last.

Shiro’s happiness is… with Keith?

\----

As far as realizations go, it’s not a very useful one.

It only takes one loop of trying to see life through this new lens for Shiro to confirm that, yes, he’s hopelessly in love with Keith, and he has no idea how he failed to realize it before, given the way that his eyes can’t seem to leave Keith for more than a few seconds at a time when they’re in each other’s presence.

But it doesn’t change the fact that Keith isn’t hopelessly in love with him.

Keith may have had a crush, once upon a time, but now he’s older and wiser and he’s realized that Shiro’s a broken shell of the man he once was, fallen off the pedestal and cracked like Humpty Dumpty.

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men will never be able to put Shiro together again—or, at least, not in the same way he once was.

It really is fine. Shiro’s come to terms with who he is now, baggage and all, but—there really is a lot of baggage, and as he told Keith before, he doesn’t think it’s fair to ask anyone to share that burden. He especially doesn’t want Keith to have to share that burden. There’s already enough that he has to deal with.

All of this isn’t something that he can put on Keith. He loves him too much for this.

His path forward is clear.

It’s sad but poetic, he thinks, to realize that he’s in love with Keith, and in the next breath to realize that the only way for him to be happy is to get over it.

\----

He doesn’t really know how to get over it, though.

Keith seems unhappy when Shiro starts to suggest they should spend the day apart—which makes sense, since he doesn’t know anyone else on this planet, and it’s nice to be there to have each other’s backs just in case.

So if Shiro can’t use distance, he decides he’ll use extreme closeness instead. Exposure therapy is a thing, right? The more time he spends with Keith, the more numb he’ll become to these feelings, until eventually he won’t even notice them anymore.

He starts to get them to go through the rites again. Sometimes he tells Keith about the loops. Sometimes he doesn’t. It doesn’t seem to make a difference either way, so Shiro doesn’t bring it up until there’s a natural reason to.

He asks Keith to teach him how to give better massages, because if he’s going to massage Keith almost every day for the foreseeable future in order to get used to the feeling of his skin, he may as well be good at it, at least.

The first time Keith makes a surprised sound and says, “You’re really good at this,” Shiro barely restrains himself from a celebratory fist pump.

He clears his throat and says, “I had a good teacher.”

Keith hums and doesn’t ask any questions.

In the evenings, he practices braiding Keith’s hair as they talk about everything and nothing. Shiro tries to shift the topic of conversation away from anything too personal out of respect for Keith’s privacy, but sometimes he finds that he can’t.

He tries to keep track of what he should know and what he shouldn’t, but he slips up more than a few times. Keith always takes it well, though. Keith’s always surprised, just for a moment, and then he isn’t, and the conversation continues.

It becomes easier to live this day again and again. Keith’s body becomes nearly as familiar as his own. There’s no hesitancy in his movements now as he washes him, and Shiro’s ease with it seems to set Keith at ease as well. They can smile and laugh and chatter quietly as they go about it.

He doesn’t need to look, now, to take care of Keith’s body. He knows Keith likes a small amount of the warming oil—the bottle with the orange liquid, they’d discovered some number of loops ago—but only on his shoulders and not really anywhere else. He knows how to melt Keith into a puddle in the first few minutes, how to soothe him until it’s Keith that’s starting to doze off on the rocks, and Shiro is the one to cover him and curl up against him, watching his gentle breathing as he enjoys his much-needed rest.

It’s nice. Relaxing. He’s glad he gets to settle into this with Keith.

But it’s also tiring, to do this over and over and over again.

Shiro is tired.

\----

“Have you ever tried to get over someone?” Shiro says one night as they lay in bed.

Keith snorts. “Plenty.”

“How'd you do it?”

“I didn't.”

Shiro tilts his head in question.

“I dunno. Maybe it's just me,” Keith says. He has his legs up and his arms wrapped around them, cheek propped on his knees and looking at Shiro. “But it takes a long time for me to feel that way about someone. The relationship and memories and emotions there are important to me, even outside the context of romance or whatever. It's not something I can just get over.”

“So you just... live with it?”

“It hurts sometimes,” Keith says, “but it's not that bad. If I love someone like that, the main thing I want is for them to be happy, even if it's not with me.” He smiles a little. “If they can be happy, sometimes that’s more than enough.”

Shiro's mind runs in circles. His happiness is Keith’s happiness. That's true. Maybe he was on the right track, those times before when he was trying to help Keith connect with the Galra man, whose name he still cannot remember.

He knows now that he was jealous. Maybe he let that get in the way of his efforts. Maybe now that he knows all he knows it's the right time to try again.

“Thanks, Keith,” he says. “That helps a lot.”

“Of course,” Keith says. He pauses, then says, “You don't have to tell me, but... is there someone?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says. “There’s someone.”

“Have you—Have you tried telling him?” Keith says.

“I don’t want things to go badly,” Shiro says. “Like you said, there’s something else there right now, and even if it’s not romance, it’s important to me.”

“I get that,” Keith says. “But I think it’ll be okay. It’s you.”

Shiro laughs. “Funny. I think it won’t be okay, because it’s me.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Shiro repeats. He doesn’t think he has to explain. He gestures to himself. “Just look at me.”

Keith slowly, deliberately sweeps his gaze over the length of Shiro’s body. Shiro tingles wherever his eyes land. “I’m looking,” Keith says.

“Okay,” Shiro says. “So you can see I’m broken.”

“I can see you’re beautiful.”

Shiro’s heart pounds and he stares for a moment, stunned. Then he laughs. Keith always knows the right thing to say. “You’re so…”

“What?”

“Biased.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “And you’re so stupid. There’s nothing wrong with you, Shiro.”

“There’s a lot wrong with me.”

“Fine, yes,” Keith says, and Shiro knows he said it first but it stings anyways. Then Keith says, “But because you do shit like put marshmallows on your mac and cheese, not because you’re— _ broken _ . God. Is that what you’ve been thinking this whole time?”

Shiro can’t lie to Keith in this moment, but he also doesn’t want to admit the truth. He makes a vague noise of semi-agreement. “It sounds worse than it is, when you say it like that.”

Keith’s hands drop. “ _ Shiro _ .”

“It’s something I’ve accepted about myself,” Shiro says. “It’s just not something I’m asking anyone else to. I don’t hate myself, or anything like that.”

“But do you like yourself?”

“Do  _ you _ like yourself?” Shiro says.

Keith makes a face of barely concealed annoyance.

It’s an unfair question, Shiro knows. He gives Keith a small smile. “I’m not going to lie and say it’s not hard sometimes. But most of the time, yeah. I like myself enough.”

“So why don’t you think that someone else could, too?”

“It’s not that I don’t think someone else could,” Shiro says. “It’s just that I don’t think they should have to—you know.” He flaps a hand vaguely. “Deal with all the heavy stuff. It’s a lot for me to ask of anyone.”

“I get it,” Keith says. “And I know you can handle yourself. But it’s okay to ask other people to help, too.”

“I know.”

“So take a chance,” Keith says. “Let someone in.”

Shiro shrugs with one shoulder. It’s hard to explain that, in a way, he’s more worried about acceptance than rejection. Rejection would hurt, but it wouldn’t be unexpected, and he knows that he’ll at least always have Keith as a friend, which is already more than enough. But if Keith accepts him, Shiro has to live with knowing he’s going to be burdening Keith with all his issues. And Keith already has problems of his own.

“I don’t want to make life harder for you.”

“For me?”

Keith’s voice is quiet, and his eyes are wide as he raises his head from his knees.

Shiro freezes, blood ringing in his ears. Did he say that? He didn’t say that, right? He could’ve sworn he’d said—“For anyone. I meant for anyone.”

They’re both frozen solid, the silence between them expanding and expanding into a vacuum that Shiro wishes would swallow him whole.

If he could just fall asleep and restart right now, that would be great. Anything to avoid this conversation.

“Shiro, are you—“ Keith swallows, hands clenching on the blankets. “Are you in love with me?”

He looks down. “I’m sorry.”

Keith makes a strangled noise, and then another one. “I— _ Shiro _ . God, I can’t even decide what to say first.”

Shiro’s not sure he wants to see the expression on Keith’s face, but he takes a peek anyways. It actually doesn’t help, because Keith’s face is in his hands, covering his expression as he breathes. Then his hands fall, and his face is carefully blank.

“I’m taking a shower,” Keith says, climbing out of the bed.

“What?”

“I just—I need to clear my head for a minute,” Keith says. “I want to make sure I say this right. Just—I love you. Don’t worry. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Keith really should have learned from Shiro that if you don’t want someone to worry,  _ don’t worry  _ is exactly the phrase that you should not say.

It’s everything Shiro didn’t want—a poorly-timed, accidental confession and now Keith, stressed out trying to figure out a way to reject him without hurting him.

He lays down and forces himself to relax after Keith leaves, willing himself to enter the land of sleep.

For the first time since this all started, he’s glad he’s going to have another chance.


	4. Chapter 4

Life hates Takashi Shirogane. It’s a fact.

It’s why instead of waking up on the ship, he’s waking up on his side in a different familiar bed. Next to him, Keith is curled facing him, his eyes watching as Shiro blinks himself awake.

He's moved on to the next day, and of course it's in the loop where he did it all wrong. Or, wait. If he moved on—then doesn’t that mean he’s doing it all right? That’s definitely another way to get over his feelings: seek closure by confessing, and deal with the aftermath.

It’s a method he’s been avoiding.

The logical part of his brain says that rejection does not equate to a loss of friendship. The stressed-out rest of it is screaming that this is the moment where he’s going to begin to lose Keith for real.

He’s brought out of his thoughts by Keith’s hand, warm on his arm. “You okay?”

“It’s tomorrow,” he says, and tries to remember if yesterday was one of the days he had told Keith about the loop.

Apparently not, because Keith’s brow furrows as he says, “Tomorrow?”

“I was stuck in a time loop,” he says. “I’ve been through yesterday—a lot of times. You don’t want to know how many.”

“I was wondering if you fell asleep to try to get out of talking to me,” Keith says, squeezing his arm. “You were trying to reset the day?”

“Caught me,” Shiro says with a wry smile.

“In all the other days, you’ve never told me,” Keith says.

Apparently they’re doing this now.

“I wasn’t planning on it, no.”

“What were you planning on?” Keith says, but he’s never been slow, and he’s barely finished his sentence before he starts his next. “Getting over it. You’ve been trying to get over me. By what, giving me massages?”

Shiro winces. “It sounded like a good idea at the time.”

“Yeah?” There’s laughter in Keith’s voice. “And how many massages have you given me now?”

“Enough to be good at it?”

“You are,” Keith says. “Good at it.”

“The first time was bad,” Shiro says. “The first ten times. I don’t know how you put up with it.”

“I’m never putting up with you,” Keith says, much too softly, and it’s clear that they’re talking about something else now. “Even though, somehow, you’re the stupidest person I know.”

“I accept that.”

Keith sighs. “I had all night and I still can’t think of how to say this.” He shifts as he speaks, the movement making his hair fall over the curve of his ear and into his face.

Shiro reaches over to brush the strands away, then lingers, knuckles resting against his cheek. It’s okay if Keith doesn’t know how to make the words come out. Shiro already knows what he’s going to say.

Keith blinks at him. “Shiro?”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not right now.” Shiro lets his hand trail down the side of Keith’s jaw, down the column of his neck, memorizing the curvature of it. “But you will. I’ve known since I met you that you were meant for more.”

“You’re being weird,” Keith says. “And I’m not half the image you’ve got in your head.”

“You’re more.”

They watch each other for a moment.

Then Keith’s hand moves from his arm to his back. “Come here,” he says, tugging Shiro in.

Shiro doesn’t understand where _here_ is, exactly, but he goes, letting Keith’s hand pull him in closer before wrapping around the back of his neck and yanking him forward.

 _Here_ is to Keith, apparently. He’s met with a press of lips, warm and dry. All that he shouldn’t have, suddenly poured down his throat. He doesn’t remember moving, but when his mind regains clarity his arms are around Keith’s back and shoulders, crushing him against Shiro’s body.

He draws back, gasping.

Keith reaches up to brush Shiro’s cheek with his thumb. It comes away wet. “That’s what I wanted to say.”

“You can’t.” It comes out before he can stop it.

“You’re the one who’s always telling me I can do anything I put my mind to,” Keith says. “I’m putting my mind to this.”

“It’s not—you shouldn’t,” Shiro says. He tries to pull away, but Keith tightens his hold, keeping him there. “Keith. You don’t deserve—“

“You?”

“What?”

“You were about to say I don’t deserve you,” Keith says.

“What? No!” Shiro frowns at him. “You don’t deserve my baggage.”

“Your baggage is a part of you,” Keith says. “It doesn’t make you who you are, but at least for now, it’s inseparable from you.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“I’m not dealing with it,” Keith says, “or putting up with it, or any of those other things you keep saying. I love you, Shiro. I want to help you carry the load. However much of it you’ll let me.”

“I don’t want you to,” Shiro says, a bit desperately.

Keith presses his lips together. “Are you saying that for your own sake? Or for mine?” he says, and sighs when Shiro doesn’t answer. “What do you really want?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to be honest with me,” Keith says. “But most of all, I want you to be honest with yourself.” His eyes flit across Shiro’s face, watching him. Studying him. “You love me.”

“I—yes.” He doesn’t see any reason to shy from it; Keith already knows, even if he hasn’t said it in words.

“I love you, too,” Keith says, easy as anything. “And I know that you can handle this on your own, but having help has never hurt anyone, and I want to be here for you. That’s what I want. What about you?”

“I trust you with everything,” Shiro says slowly, picking each word with care, “and I love you. I want you to be happy. And I know you worry about me enough as it is. I don’t want you to worry full-time.”

“If anything I’d be less worried if I knew you were letting me see everything,” Keith says. “Half the time, I’m worried because I know you’re not telling me everything. I want to be there for you, Shiro. For the good and the bad. I never want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me.”

“I feel the same way,” Shiro says. “I know there are things you haven’t told me,” he adds, thinking of Regris, “like there are things I haven’t told you. And you never have to, if you don’t want to. But I don’t want you to feel like you can’t.”

Keith laughs quietly. “No, you’re right. This goes two ways. I want to try.”

“I want to, too,” Shiro says.

It’s not a promise, but it’s a start. And he wants this. It’s selfish of him, but he wants this for the rest of his life, and if Keith wants it for even just a moment—that’s all he can ask for.

He reaches out, slowly for Keith’s hand, and Keith lets him take it.

“Where do we go from here?” Shiro says quietly.

“Marry me,” Keith says. “For real.”

Shiro gapes. “You—”

Keith very clearly smirks, but only for a moment before it melts into a soft smile, so sincere it makes Shiro melt too. “I’ve loved you for a long time, Shiro. I’ll keep loving you for longer. So, tomorrow. Marry me.”

“Yes,” Shiro says, because there isn’t anything else he can say to that. “Yes.”

\----

Shiro wakes up the next morning with Keith in his arms.

It’s something he never wants to get used to. He wants to be able to feel like this, every single time—amazed, lucky, loved.

Shiro had forgotten about the rites of the day before; it had been such a long time since he’d done them.

Sparring went well. Keith frowned suspiciously when Shiro countered a few of his new moves too easily, but it wasn’t as though Shiro could remember them all, so Keith still got several good hits in.

Shiro did, however, steal Keith’s thigh trick just to see the look on his face when Shiro pinned him down.

Keith didn’t disappoint—he went so red Shiro thought he might implode, and he was physically incapable of saying anything until Shiro climbed off.

“Thighs?” Shiro said.

“Shut up,” Keith said. He went twice as hard after that.

The telepathy was still awkward, in Shiro’s opinion, but better than before, and they fell asleep with Shiro sharing select memories of some of the past loops.

Now, in his arms, Keith begins to stir.

“I love you,” Shiro says quietly, because he can.

Keith turns to him, still blinking the sleep from his eyes. “I love you.”

Shiro leans in to kiss him the same time that Keith does, and they bump noses. He laughs, and tries to turn, but Keith does too, and then they’re laughing and doing that awful awkward sidewalk shuffle with their faces trying to get themselves at the right angles.

Keith grabs his face to hold him still, then leans in and gives him a solid kiss.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to be this hard,” Shiro says with a quiet laugh.

Keith smiles at him. “We’ll figure it out.”

Shiro vaguely remembers going through all of the ceremony preparations the first time—breakfast, the baths, the second round of telepathy.

It’s easier this time—the telepathy. Shiro opens the floodgates and shares his favorite memories of Keith—the times that they’ve had fun, the times that they’ve shared pain, the times that they’ve been there for each other, over and over again. Keith reacts in turn, sharing his own.

Shiro can see, now, why they do this before the ceremony. He feels closer to Keith than he ever has.

They’re given their robes, Paladin black and red, and Keith looks as beautiful in red and gold as he did the first time, but now Shiro has the proper words to express his appreciation.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, honestly, and Keith flushes to match his robe. “You blush a lot,” he says, also honestly, and Keith scowls.

“You’re not supposed to point it out.”

“Sorry,” Shiro says, though he doesn’t see why it’s a problem. It’s cute. He walks over to stand by Keith. “Can I help?”

“Can you braid?”

“Why don’t I show you?”

Keith looks at him in clear disbelief, but he goes to sit on a chair so that Shiro can have easier access to his hair.

“Where’d you learn to do this?” he says when Shiro’s done, inspecting the braid in the mirrors. “It looks really good.”

“Guess,” Shiro says.

Keith looks at his face, and the soft smile Shiro knows he’s wearing. “You asked me to teach you?”

Shiro reaches for the braid, drapes it over Keith’s shoulder. “I couldn’t do it at all the first time around. I figured it could come in handy later.”

Keith shakes his head. “Massages, now braids. You say you were trying to get over me, but really it sounds like you were trying to learn how to court me.”

“I—“ Was he? Was he really that self-sabotaging? Was it considered self-sabotage if it was what he really wanted after all? “I’m confused.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Keith says. His eyes are laughing as he links his arm in Shiro’s. “Let’s go, fiancé.”

They make their way over to the springs where the ceremony is happening, and as before, the rest of the team is waiting for them by the entrance.

Keith startles on his arm, and Shiro realizes that he forgot to tell him the rest of their friends would be showing up.

“Looking good, guys!” Pidge calls out across the space as Lance wolf whistles.

“What are you guys doing here?” Keith says, and a conversation that Shiro vaguely remembers replays.

“Dude, there’s no way we’d miss this!” Hunk says. “It’s supposed to be an incredibly beautiful ceremony. I brought a whole backpack of tissues and everything.”

“I only wish I could have experienced a true Visarian ceremony,” Coran says with a grand sigh. “Even in my youth they were renowned for their passion and beauty. It is a great honor to be able to participate.”

“Did you enjoy the previous days?” Allura says. She glances at Lance, whose arm is slung around her shoulders. “When we heard about it, we really did think it could be just what you need. I know the both of you have a great many responsibilities, and it can be very difficult to get away.”

“It was a little intense, but it was exactly what we needed,” Shiro says, smiling at Keith. “Thank you, Allura.”

“Ugh,” Lance says. “I thought having all this time together would make you two less gross, not more.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith says.

“You know, figured you’d get it all out of your system in private so you wouldn’t have to keep making woobly eyes at each other in public.”

“Woobly eyes,” Keith says.

“Scientific term,” Pidge says. “I can verify.”

Keith frowns. “I don’t make woobly eyes.”

Lance leans dramatically towards the rest of the group and says, “Who’s gonna break the news to him?”

“You two make mad woobly eyes,” Hunk says.

Shiro blinks and points to himself. “Me too?”

Lance points at him. “Your eyes are the woobliest!”

“But I—I didn’t even know I was in love with Keith, or that he was in love with me until—” Shiro stops, because he has no idea what an accurate unit of time is for him in this situation, “—until we got here.”

Now everyone is staring.

“Are you—Are you certain?” Allura says. “Lance and I had considered attending, but we didn’t feel that our relationship was in quite the right place for it. Not like yours. We thought for sure that the both of you had already been in a relationship for quite some time, otherwise I never would have asked you to participate in such a ceremony.”

Not like… what?

“We worked it out,” Keith says. “Don’t worry about it.”

“So… you both landed here three days ago, and in that time Shiro has managed to figure out his feelings for you, and you’ve both managed to confess your feelings to each other, and now you’re going to get alien married, after both of you apparently pining for like the entire time we’ve known you,” Hunk says. “Does that—Am I hearing that right?”

“That’s about it,” Keith says.

“What the hell?” Lance says. “How even?”

“Magic,” Keith says flatly.

“A lot’s happened,” Shiro says, patting his arm. “But we’re happy. And we’re excited to be doing this.”

“Good, because we put so much effort into those things,” Lance says, pointing at them. “And it would’ve sucked if it was all for nothing. You got the sizes just right, by the way,” he says to Coran.

“But of course!” Coran twirls his moustache. “I always have everyone’s measurements prepared. You never know when you’ll need to whip up a disguise!”

“Wait,” Shiro says, looking at his and Keith’s robes. Now that he looks closer, he can see all the imperfections—the uneven stitching, the inconsistent embroidery of the lions and symbol; all the marks of amateur hands. The robes must have taken them days. Weeks, even. “You all made these?”

“It is tradition, after all,” Allura says with a smile. “Our wish, that you may find lasting happiness.”

Shiro’s heart is working overtime. He guesses he’s going to be crying at his wedding after all. He smiles. “Thank you. All of you.”

Hunk thumps his shoulder and draws him and Keith into a group hug that everyone else starts to pile in on. “You would’ve done the same for any of us.”

\----

The springs are just as beautiful as Shiro remembers, and so is Keith as he takes it all in. Keith glances over and catches him looking, and this time when Shiro smiles Keith leans up to kiss him quietly.

There’s a click, and they turn to see Pidge holding up a camera. “For posterity,” she says, and Shiro laughs.

As they walk forward with the crowd, Pidge says, “Have you guys thought about what kind of gifts you’ll receive?”

“Gifts?” Keith says, and Shiro realizes that in all the excitement he’d also forgotten to tell Keith exactly what the bonding entailed.

He tunes out as Allura and Coran explain to Keith the basics of the ceremony, and how the gifts work. Keith’s hand has lowered from his arm, and now their fingers are linked together. Shiro rubs the top of Keith’s hand with his thumb as they walk, enjoying the quiet comfort of their hands pressed together.

Eventually he gets pulled back into the conversation after Pidge asks about the rites the previous two days, and what they think of Visari, and they talk amongst themselves until it’s once again time for he and Keith to step behind the waterfall.

“Welcome, Paladins of Voltron,” the same Visarian elder says. “We are honored to have you in our ceremony today.”

“We’re honored to be here,” Keith says.

“Please,” the elder says, gesturing them closer to the waterfall. “Take hands with each other, and extend your closer hands into the water. This will let you communicate with both each other, and the spirit of the springs.”

This time when he takes Keith’s hand, the sensation of the telepathy is stronger. He still doesn’t really know how this works, but he feels loved. At peace. His feelings for Keith, being reflected back at him. It’s a heady rush, and he can feel his smile grow until his cheeks hurt.

Keith’s smile is just as blinding.

“Now,” the elder says. “Please share with each other the moment that you knew you would be each other’s happiness.”

“He told me he wouldn’t give up on me,” Keith says as he did the first time, and Shiro feels like a fool for not noticing the depths of Keith’s feelings. “I lost my dad when I was young, and no one else had ever said anything like that to me. I didn’t really believe him at first. But then he proved it to me, over and over. Every time anyone else would have given up on me. Even the times I gave up on myself. Now when I look back, I know that was the start of everything else. I’ve loved you, in some way, ever since then.”

“And you?” the elder says to Shiro.

Shiro—should have prepared for this part, but everything’s been moving so quickly that he honestly forgot about it. But this time, he finds, the answer comes to him much more quickly.

“When I told Keith I was dying, he said we should go for a race,” he says, and smiles when Keith lets out a startled laugh. “That meant everything to me, even though I didn’t realize until later. He’s never for a moment thought of me as less than I am, but he’s also never seen me as anything I’m not. I didn’t think that was possible, but Keith’s proof that it is, and I love him and trust him with everything I have.”

Keith squeezes his hand, smile growing wider.

“The bond between you is intense,” the elder comments, “but I suppose we should have expected no less from Paladins of Voltron.”

They step up to the waterfall and silently fill the two vials with water, one at a time. They’re smiling when they turn back around.

“You’ve both come a long way to get here, and the road has not been easy,” the elder says, “but your journey together has just begun. To you both, we give the gift of imperfection, that you may embrace the flaws in yourselves, in your lives, and in each other as you carve out your future.”

“Bottoms up,” Shiro says quietly, and Keith lifts the corner of his lips.

They clink their vials and drink before returning it to the elder.

They smile. “We wish you a lifetime of happiness.”

\----

The scene when they emerge is familiar to Shiro—Hunk is sobbing into tissues, Pidge has her camera at the ready, everyone else is offering congratulations.

“So beautiful,” Hunk cries. “All my friends grown up and taking part in alien group weddings. Come here.” He hauls them in and starts off another group hug.

“So, how was it?” Pidge says when they’re out of the hug and standing in a circle. “What happened? What’s the secret ceremony? It looked like you guys just kind of… stood around. I mean, you looked good doing it.”

“We can’t just tell you all their secrets,” Keith says.

“It’s for science!” Pidge says.

“Could you at least tell us what your gifts were?” Lance says. “Come on, we’re dying for deets here.”

Shiro smiles at Keith, who smiles back. “I think we’ll keep it private for now.”

“Boo,” Pidge says. “Well you should let me know if you feel like they end up having any impact. I am very curious about how this all works.”

“Aw, c’mon, Pidge, don’t ruin the magic,” Lance says.

Allura laughs. “Let’s leave it be until they’re ready to share. Did the two of you plan on staying the night here?”

“We’re heading out tonight,” Keith says. “My mom and Kolivan are coming by Earth for a bit and I have to work on something with them.”

“Oh, you should have invited them to stop by!” Allura says. “I’m sure they would have appreciated it. It’s not every day one has an excuse to observe a Visari bonding ceremony.”

It would be a nice idea, if they knew it was a real thing sooner. Actually, if it is a real thing now, does that make it worse? He glances at Keith, who looks similarly nervous.

“We’ll do something else for them later,” Shiro says, and Keith looks at him with relief. “But, since you’re all here, how do you feel about dinner?”

Like the first time they went through the ceremony, they spend the rest of the evening together with their old team. Unlike the first time, when all Shiro could see was the way their paths would diverge, Shiro’s seeing the spaces where their lives overlap—where Pidge’s work is actually going to send her traveling with Hunk, and Lance and Allura are taking another political trip with only the most trusted Blades as their escorts. They may be working on different things now, not as a cohesive unit as Voltron was, but their goals of defending the universe are the same.

Wherever they end up, it’s not going to be very far from each other.

They go say their goodbyes to Felos, who looks even more impressed with the strength of their bond than they did the first time, and make promises to visit again before they depart.

“In the end, you were there for a while, huh?” Keith says after they’ve launched into space and are watching the planet grow smaller and smaller in their viewport. “Glad to be leaving?”

Shiro laughs. “Yeah, kind of. I’ll definitely miss it, I think. But where I’m going isn’t bad either,” he says, smiling at Keith in the pilot’s seat.

“I think so too,” Keith says, and kisses him.

Shiro reaches for the restraints strapped across his chest to free himself from his seat, but it’s hard to undo blind, and he has to break away from the kiss to fiddle with it. “It’s stuck.”

Keith huffs out a laugh as he undoes his own restraints. “The imperfections are hitting us already, I guess.”

“It’s a gift,” Shiro says. “You should appreciate it.”

“Oh, I am.” Keith walks over, but instead of reaching for the restraints, he puts his hands on Shiro’s shoulders and swings himself into his lap. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says, breathless. He puts his hands oh Keith’s hips to steady him.

“Good,” Keith murmurs, and kisses him again.

Shiro sighs into it and slides his hands up Keith’s back. They hung up their robes as soon as they got back to the ship, and they’re both left only in their undersuits. The skin-tight fabric hides little as Shiro maps out every curve and ridge of Keith’s body with his hands, reveling in the way Keith’s breath shudders on each stroke.

All those days massaging Keith in the name of getting used to him hasn’t done anything but make him more aware of the exact places his hands fit over the curves of Keith’s back, of how hot Keith’s skin feels against his own.

God does he want to feel Keith’s skin again.

He grabs at the zipper at the back of Keith’s neck and tugs it down so that he can pull off the top half of his undersuit, leaving Keith’s chest bare. It’s so hard to decide where he wants to direct his focus. He wants to put his hands and mouth everywhere at once.

He leans down, laying kisses across Keith’s chest and collarbones. He leans down more to take a nipple into his mouth, and Keith bucks hard and cries out.

The brief pressure against his cock makes Shiro’s pleasure spike, and he sweeps his hands down to Keith’s ass and pulls him in harder. He moans into Keith’s neck as he arches and rocks against him, desperate, and Keith laughs and grinds down in response.

Blood rushes in his ears as the pressure builds in his core. “Ah, Keith—fuck!”

The fact of the matter is that Shiro’s spent an indeterminate amount of time being in Keith’s presence for nearly every waking moment. He hasn’t had an orgasm since the looping started, and he’s more than a little on edge.

And Keith seems insistent on pushing him off the rest of the way.

Shiro grabs Keith’s hips to push him back. “Wait.”

Keith stills, face turning serious. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t let our first time as husbands be in the cockpit,” Shiro says.

Keith laughs and pushes against Shiro’s grip to get back to his cock. Shiro is weak and lets him, and Keith starts to grind slowly again. “Don’t you think it’s kind of romantic? You can see the stars.”

“Right now,” Shiro says, “the only thing I want to see is you.”

“Shiro.” Keith’s gaze goes molten. “Fuck.” He wraps his arms around Shiro’s back and starts moving against him in earnest.

Shiro grabs around his waist and holds on. “God, Keith, you—I love you. I love you so much.”

“Me too,” Keith says. He turns his face down to mouth at Shiro’s jaw, nipping at it with a tenderness that makes Shiro’s chest tighten and his eyes fill with inexplicably tears. “Tell me what you want.”

“Anything,” Shiro says. “Everything.”

“Me too,” Keith whispers, and grinds down harder, faster.

Shiro whines without really meaning to and kisses him again.

It’s strange. It’s so strange. Shiro’s been coming to terms with how he feels for Keith, and how he wants to show his love, but somehow his mind has never focused on this raw physicality as an option.

But now that he’s here, he never wants it to end. It’s like sparring, he thinks, but instead of using his eyes to anticipate each of Keith’s movements he can use his entire body—feel the flex of Keith’s muscles and the press of his lips and the twitch of his fingers. And he reacts in kind, arching against the restraints to push himself closer to Keith’s touch, gasping pleasure into his mouth.

There’s so much he wants to do, and all at once, but he’s not going to be able to do any of it, not right now.

“I’m not—I’m not gonna last,” he says.

“Then don’t,” Keith says.

He bites down on Shiro’s neck, leaving his mark, and Shiro throws his head back and sees stars.

Keith kisses him, swallows his moans as he comes down, and without breaking the kiss Shiro reaches down to free Keith’s cock from his undersuit, stroking him until he’s shaking, too, and falling out of the kiss, collapsing against Shiro’s chest.

They stay there, boneless, panting and sweating. Shiro can feel the mess in his undersuit starting to spread, but he can’t be bothered to move. He reaches up to push Keith’s hair out of his face, and Keith grumbles.

“There better not be come on that hand.”

There is.

Keith looks up at his face and laughs quietly at whatever he sees there. “Kidding. Mostly.” He slides off Shiro’s lap. “Want to move to an actual bed?”

“I would if I could,” Shiro says, surging up against the restraints.

Keith laughs softly and reaches over to fiddle with the buckles. It takes a bit of effort, but eventually they come off, and they end up stumbling into Shiro’s room to wash off before crashing into the bed.

Shiro lets out a deep exhale and strokes Keith’s cheek. Now that the frenzied heat has left his brain, he can’t help but wish he’d taken things a bit slower.

“What is it?” Keith says softly.

Shiro shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess, I feel bad. I didn’t want our first time to be so…”

“Imperfect,” Keith says, and kisses his cheek. “Just as the water decreed.”

“So you’re admitting it could be better,” Shiro says.

Keith laughs. “Don’t worry about that. We have all the time in the world to get it right.”

\----

Shiro wakes drenched in sweat, heartbeat pounding in his veins as echoes of a past he doesn’t like to think about pounds in his mind. He hasn’t had nightmares in so long, he almost forgot what it was like to wake up feeling inches from death. He’d hoped Keith’s presence by his side was the balm, but of course it couldn’t be so easy.

He turns over to reach out and pull Keith closer, but his arm lands on cold sheets.

Keith isn’t there.

He didn’t hear the familiar sound of the transmission, but Shiro’s breath quickens as he reaches for his datapad to check the date.

It looks fine. The day’s moved forward. He’s not trapped in the loop again.

Keith didn’t leave. He wouldn’t have left. There’s a reasonable explanation for why he’s not there—checking something on the ship, maybe. Shiro throws on the first set of clothing he can find and stumbles his way over to the cockpit, then the galley.

No sign of Keith.

He tries Keith’s room next.

Keith opens the door, looking for all the world like he’d just woken up. “Shiro? What’s wrong?”

And Shiro—Shiro doesn’t know what to think. “You weren’t there.”

Keith’s brows draw together. “Where?”

“My room,” Shiro says.

Keith stares at him and, slowly, he starts to frown. “Why would I be in your room?”

“We were—last night,” Shiro says, even as he starts to realize that, once again, he sounds completely out of his mind. “We got married.”

“We did,” Keith says. “For the mission. It’s not real, right? That’s what you said.”

“I never—“ Shiro starts, but then he remembers—he did. Not recently, but a long time ago, in the very first loop:

 _It’s not real. It doesn’t really mean anything, outside of here_.

He remembers again, that first night, the only other time they’d gone through the bonding ceremony—when the elder had placed a vial in his palm and promised him _insight_.

It wasn’t real. Nothing that had happened after that was real.

Reality is him, unknowingly stomping all over Keith’s heart in steadfast protection of his own.

He laughs. He laughs so hard that he starts to cry and Keith yanks him into his room and closes the door.

“Shiro, what’s going on?” Keith says, pushing him until he sits down on the bed, and he’s definitely confused, but most of all, he looks concerned.

“A dream,” Shiro says. “The most ridiculous dream.”

Keith’s brows draw together. “A nightmare?”

“The opposite.” Shiro sniffs, swallows his snot, and wipes his tears. “Keith, I love you.”

“I know,” Keith says, gently.

“No,” Shiro says. They’re not doing this again. “I love you, with everything I have, and I trust you with all that and more. I’m in love with you. I want to be there for you, today and every day after that, for the rest of our lives, and I know I have a lot to work on, but I want to let you be there for me too, if you want to.”

Keith’s brows lift as his eyes grow wider and wider, his mouth forming a little _o_ , but no sound comes out.

“And the past few days… I’ve been an idiot, and a jerk, and I know it’ll take time for you to forgive me, but—“

“I forgive you.”

Shiro blinks. “What?”

Keith puts his hands on his shoulders and steps between his legs. “I’m not really sure what’s going through your head, but I forgive you. I love you, Shiro. You have to know that.”

“I do,” Shiro says. He raises his hands to Keith’s hips, slowly, and rests them there more firmly when Keith smiles. “There was a lot I didn’t get before, but. I think I’m starting to understand now. And I’m sorry that I’ve been too stuck inside my head to see it for so long.”

“You hurt me,” Keith agrees, “but I let you.”

“It’s not an excuse.”

“It’s not,” Keith says. “But I’m sorry too, for not telling you. I know you’d never hurt me if you could avoid it, but… I guess I was scared that avoiding it would’ve meant avoiding me, too. I felt like that would’ve been worse.”

“I wish I could start over,” Shiro says. If he could have one reset, just one, he knew exactly how he would change things. He knew how to give Keith the confession and and the proposal and the love that he deserved.

“Life isn’t perfect,” Keith says. “It’s what makes it special. And we don’t have to be either.”

“The gift of imperfection,” Shiro says over his memories—or his dreams.

Keith blinks at him, then smiles, slowly. “Yeah.”

“I’m going to get it wrong, a lot,” Shiro says. “More times than I get it right.”

Keith puts a hand to his cheek, and kisses him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the [heart hotel (allie, cai, and faia)](https://heart-hotel.carrd.co/) for editing and cheering me on every step of the way! And huge thank you to [spooky](https://twitter.com/spooky_foot), my spy on the inside!
> 
> And thank you all for reading! Happy birthday, Shiro! ♥
> 
> .
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ailurea) ([post for this fic](https://twitter.com/ailurea/status/1101369658156867584)) || [website](https://ailurea.carrd.co)


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